AM 


IC 
GIRL 


ByH0^<7ARD  CHANDLER  CHRISTY 


(      ;   f   ;v 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/americangirlasseOOchriiala 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 


^mt^tkmMmrtimttJ 


A  VERITABLE  QUEEN 


GIRL' 


AS  SEEN  AND 
PORTR  Af  ED  BY 

HOWARD  CHANDLER  CHRISTY 


1906 

A\OFFAT,  VARD 
AND  COA\PANY 

NEW  YORK 


Contents 


PAGE 

Greeting 9 

Foreword 11 

I.     The  Sweet  Girl  Graduate 31 

II.     The  Debutante 51 

III.  The  American  Girl  in  the  Country.  ...  71 

IV.  The  American  Girl  in  the  City 89 

V.     The  American  Girl  in  Society 109 

VI.     The  American  Girl  as  a  Bride 133 

Epilogue 156 


'Bn 


Illustrations 


A  Veritable  Queen Frontispiece 

PAGE 

Half  Title — The  American  Girl i 

The  Teasing  Girl 14 

The  Drawing  of  a  Christy  Girl : 

1.     The  First  Sketch 17 

11.     Half  Finished  Sketch 18 

HI.     The  Completed  Picture 19 

The  Army  Girl 26 

Half  Title — The  Sweet  Girl  Graduate 31 

Water  Lilies 36 

Our  Girl  Graduate 40 

The  Golf  Girl 42 

A  College  Girl 45 

Half  Title — The  Debutante. 51 

A  Debutante 56 

Her  Carriage  Waits 58 

American  Beauties 62 

First  Sketch  and  Completed  Picture ." 66 


m' 


Illustrations— Continued 

PAGE 

Half  Title — In  the  Country.  ..........  o..  .   71 

On  the  Beach 74 

The  Girl  of  the  Mountains 76 

Gathering  Arbutus 80 

The  Equestrienne 82 

Canoe  Mates 86 

Half  Title— In  the  City 89 

Sketch 93 

At  the  Theatre 94 

Chrysanthemums 100 

She  Sizes  Him  Up  From  Afar 103 

A  Fair  Chauffeur .106 

Half  Title — The  American  Girl  in  Society.  .109 

A  Society  Girl ....113 

At  the  Opera 120 

Delights  to  Play  the  Petty  Tyrant 126 

The  Dance ■ 128 

Half  Title — The  American  Girl  as  the  Bride. .  133 

Mistletoe 136 

The  Traveled  Girl 138 

Excess  Baggage 142 

Awaiting  His  Coming 148 


'm 


Greeting 

It  is  a  charming  custom  in  the  Army 
and  Navy  to  end  the  formal  day  with  a 
grace  to  womankind — to  drink  a  toast 
to  the  "Sweethearts  and  Wives"  who 
are  the  inspiration  and  the  reward  of 
valor.  And  there  seems  no  good  reason 
why  a  sort  of  grace  should  not  precede 
a  book  devoted  to  the  praise  of  those 
whom  we  civilians  honor  no  less  than 
do  the  Boys  in  Khaki  and  in  Blue. 

Wherefore  is  this  page  devoted  to 
that  "incomparable  she,"  the  Ameri- 
can Girl — bonne  camarade^  true  friend, 
and  lady  born  and  bred,  the  best  of 
daughters,  sisters,  lovers,  and  wives  ! 

In  her  praise,  and  for  her  delight, 
this  book  is  made.  May  it  win  her 
favor,  and  add  its  mite  to  her  renown ! 

9 


M 


forevc^ord 

*The  indications  are  that  our  own, 
the  twentieth  century,  will  see  the 
evolution  of  the  highest  type  of  woman- 
kind the  world  has  ever  produced; 
With  the  downfall  of  artificial  dis- 
tinctions will  come  a  corresponding 
elevation  of  those  qualities  that  make 
a  natural  nobility.  That  those  quali- 
ties are  to  center  in  the  American 
woman  and  will  find  their  highest  ex- 
pression in  that  woman  at  the  moment 
when  youth  has  brought  her  to  the 
most  perfect  development  is  a  conclu- 
sion to  which  we  must  be  driven  by 
the  history  of  her  development.  Never 
before  has  the  world  offered  full  op- 
portunity   for    the    perfecting    of     the 

11 


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THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

highest  type  of  womanhood;  never 
before  have  the  selected  individuals 
from  all  the  races  of  the  world  been 
brought  together  under  such  conditions 
as  to  come  to  the  best  of  which  they 
are  capable.  .  And  apart  from  senti- 
ment, uninfluenced  by  any  narrow 
patriotism,  trying  simply  to  see  clearly 
the  causes  at  work  and  their  necessary 
results,  we  may  confidently  declare 
that  the  American  girl  in  the  future 
will  become  a  veritable  queen  of  the 
kingliest  of  races. 

All  close  observers  of  the  trend  of 
events  and  the  careful  students  of  so- 
ciology have  seen  the  beginning  that 
will  lead  to  her  apotheosis.  ,No  longer 
cramped  in  her  development  by  the 
bands  of  narrow-minded  conventional- 
ism, she  has  ceased,  if  we  may  be  for- 

12 


FOREWORD 

given  the  outworn  metaphor,  to  be  a 
hothouse  flower.  Despising  the  pseudo 
delicacy  that  was  mistakenly  consid- 
ered a  necessity  to  feminine  charm,  the 
American  girl  of  to-day  finds  in  out- 
door life  the  true  secret  of  health  and 
the  beauty  that  can  have  no  other  se- 
cure foundation.  Fortunately  she  has 
been  led  to  seek  her  best  development 
through  hygiene,  and,  beginning  with 
no  higher  desire  than  health,  she  has 
discovered  for  herself  that  the  fairy, 
Health,  brings  in  her  hands  the  price- 
less gift  of  beauty. 

For  this  lesson  the  American  girl 
should,  no  doubt,  thank  her  English 
cousin,  but,  more  fortunate  than  her 
teacher,  she  has  been  able  to  attain  re- 
sults in  her  own  case  that  far  exceed 
what  her  cousin's  example  might  have 

13 


'M 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 


J 


led  her  to  expect;  for,  in  addition  to 
the  sturdy  constitution  that  was  the 
heritage  of  both,  the  American  girl, 
owing  to  the  greater  admixture  of  races, 
possesses  capabilities  denied  to  her  trans- 
atlantic cousin.  /  She  has  in  her  veins 
not  only  the  vigor  of  northern  blood, 
rather  strengthened  than  weakened  by 
its  transportation  to  the  British  Isles  and 
then  across  the  seas  to  our  own  land, 
but  also  something  of  richer  color  de- 
rived from  the  intermingling  of  the 
larger  strain  of  Celtic  with  more  than 
a  mere  touch  of  the  Latin  races.  Added 
to  her  inherent  qualities  there  has  been 
the  influence  of  climate — the  tingle  of 
northern  frosts,  the  richer  coloring  of 
tropical  skies,  the  unbreathed  western 
winds  and  the  vivacity  derived  from  the 
changeable  life  of  the  eastern  coast. 

14 


lar' 


, H'S*wnt-4  CJiarrJlsrCMi^Cfey.  jqoj 


QQPTfWJMT.  IW«.  UOrrAT     V*AO«Oa.N 


THE  TEASING  GIRL 

MR.  CHRISTY'S  MOST  POPULAR  CREATION 


FOREWORD 

Not  all  this  would  have  availed  to 
make  her  what  she  is;  there  was,  in  addi- 
tion,the  unanalyzed  electric  touch  of  the 
American  atmosphere.  From  around 
her  have  been  blown  away  the  fogs  of 
ancient  prejudice.  The  New  World  has 
been  given  to  her  as  her  heritage.  Her 
father,  her  brothers — all  the  mankind  of 
the  New  World — have  brought  her  to  a 
wholesome  sense  of  her  own  exceeding 
value.  If  there  has  been  a  fault,  it  has 
been  an  excess  of  indulgence.  She  has 
been  the  petted  child,  the  protegee, 
the  loved  partner,  the  trusted  chum,  of 
the  men  who  have  carved  her  nation 
out  of  the  raw  material.  With  them 
she  has  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  in 
subduing  the  wilderness ;  hand  in  hand 
with  them  she  has  blazed  her  way 
through  the   forests;    alternately   with 

15 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

them  she  has  stood  on  guard  against 
their  savage  foes;  she  has  even  borne, 
by  the  aid  of  her  superb  physique,  a 
nearly  equal  share  in  their  Titanic  labor 
of  carrying  forward  into  the  wilds  the 
standard  of  civilization. 

That  this  part  was  not  played  by 
the  American  girl  of  to-day  is  true;  but 
it  is  also  true  that  there  runs  within  her 
veins  the  blood  of  these  mothers  of  her 
race ;  it  is  their  thoughts  that  by  hered- 
ity have  made  the  fibre  of  her  brain. 
The  same  camaraderie  that  placed  her 
ancestors  side  by  side  with  the  men  has 
given  to  her  a  sympathy,  an  under- 
standing, an  appreciation,  and  a  love, 
that  are  ready  to  be  given  in  unstinted 
measure  to  the  men  of  her  own  gener- 
ation. 

It  is  difficult  to  state  important  truths 

16 


nn' 


4^i 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

in  their  full  strength  without  awaken- 
ing suspicion  of  exaggeration,  but  it 
will  be  evident  that  these  elements  have 
all  co-operated  to  produce  the  American 
girl  of  to-day  when  we  have  compared 
her  with  the  women  of  our  own  time 
who  have  come  under  none  of  these 
influences  and  been  moulded  by  none 
of  these  creative  events. 

Let  us,  for  instance,  compare  the 
American  girl  who  has  made  her  own 
all  the  cultivation  and  advantages 
brought  to  her  by  our  civilization  with 
the  young  peasant  woman,  who,  bundle 
in  hand  and  kerchief  on  head,  makes 
her  awkward,  blundering  way  amid  the 
throng  of  emigrants  that  has  been  land- 
ed in  one  of  our  great  cities,  and  gazes 
stupidly  upon  the  wonders  of  the  New 
World  to  which  she  has  come. 

20 


151' 


FOREWORD 

What  is  it  that  makes  the  difference 
between  the  two  ?  Race,  education,  and 
surroundings ;  and  if  these  words  are 
expanded  into  their  real  meaning,  shall 
we  not  have  to  put  in  their  stead  just 
iuch  sentences  as  those  we  have  written 
to  set  forth  the  creating  of  the  best  type 
of  American  girl  ? 

Nor  is  it  extravagant  to  assert  that 
there  is  in  the  world  none  to  compare 
with  this  gracious  young  queen  of  our 
own  land.  Nowhere  else  can  we  find 
just  the  same  advantages  of  race,  of 
climate,  of  institutions,  and  of  freedom 
CO  profit  by  them;  and  though  we  may 
admit  that  in  this  very  freedom  and  in 
these  very  advantages  lurk  dangers  to 
be  avoided,  evils  to  be  escaped,  influ- 
ences that  may  degrade  as  well  as  those 
that  elevate,  yet  in  comparing  her  of 

21 


m 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

our  own  day  and  generation  with  her 
forbears  we  find  a  thousand  reasons  for 
optimism.  /There  is  every  sign  that  the 
American  girl  will  become  more  and 
more  the  type  we  should  desire  for 
our  mothers,  sisters,  sweethearts,  wives; 
that  she  will  in  the  future  as  in  the  past 
choose  the  good  and  avoid  the  evil,  dis- 
card those  influences  that  are  clogs  in 
her  progress,  and  turn  always  toward 
what  will  purify  and  ennoble  her  nature. 
If  we  consult  foreign  critics  in  an 
attempt  to  ascertain  her  faults  (for  we 
are  glad  to  confess  ourselves  prejudiced 
beyond  remedy  in  her  favor  and  there- 
fore unfitted  for  dispassionate  judg- 
ment), we  shall  be  told  that  she  enjoys 
too  great  freedom.  We  shall  be  point- 
ed to  the  housewife  of  Germany,  whose 
horizon  scarce  extends  beyond  her  own 

22 


m' 


FOREWORD 

doorway;  to  the  lady  of  England,  who, 
until  recently  at  least,  dared  dream  of 
no  career  beyond  the  range  of  her  hus- 
band's fixed  orbit;  or  to  the  French 
woman  of  affairs,  who  enjoys  an  author- 
ity delegated  to  her  by  the  men  of  the 
household ;  and  shall  be  asked  whether 
the  American  woman  would  not  be  the 
better  for  the  guiding  hand,  for  the 
recognition  that  she  must  maintain  a 
secondary  position. 

We  can  but  reply  that  the  American 
woman  is  trusted  because  she  is  trust- 
worthy, that  she  has  gained  her  free- 
dom and  enjoys  it  without  interference 
or  question  because  she  has  shown  her- 
self the  better  for  that  freedom.  If  she 
has  acquired  all  the  potentialities,  she 
has  acquired  with  them  the  power  of 
self-control.      Undoubtedly    it   was   a 

23 


HI 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

necessity  of  our  early  days  when  men 
and  women  were  comrades,  when  each 
must  leave  full  initiative  to  the  other, 
that  she  should  be  free  from  guiding 
strings ;  that,  like  the  American  soldier, 
she  must  learn  what  to  do  in  the  absence 
of  command.  Little  by  little  she 
proved  her  capacity,  and  long  after 
the  ceasing  of  those  influences  which 
had  demanded  that  she  be  independ- 
ent she  was  still  left  free  from  inter- 
ference because  it  had  been  found  that 
interference  was  unnecessary. 

.  It  has  been  pointed  out  by  histo- 
rians that  there  is  no  means  of  teaching 
self-government  except  by  entrusting 
people  with  responsibilities,  and  the 
history  of  our  own  nation  has  proved 
to  every  American  that  the  power  and 
worth   of    each    individual    is    brought 

24 


m' 


FOREWORD 

out  only  in  circumstances  that  demand 
self-reliance  and  self-help. 

These  general  truths  apply  to  the 
American  woman,  as  well  to  her  nation 
and  her  race.  From  this  keynote  we 
may  learn  to  understand  how  it  is  that 
she  has  successfully  appropriated  to 
herself  the  best  qualities  from  all  the 
different  races  to  which  she  owes  her 
origin.  In  her  contact  with  the  world, 
in  her  need  for  drawing  upon  every 
personal  resource  to  meet  the  emer- 
gencies of  her  career,  she  has  made 
trial  of  the  capabilities  within  her,  and 
has  learned  to  choose  from  among  them 
those  that  have  aided  her  in  making 
her  own  advance. 

She  has  retained  the  Teuton  sobriety 
of  character  and  power  of  reasoning 
analytically. 

25 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

From  the  same  source  and  also  from 
her  English  forbears,  she  has  derived 
that  love  of  her  home  which  remains  a 
distinguished  characteristic  in  spite  of 
w^hat  often  seems  a  detachment  vv^hen 
compared  with  the  close  dependence 
upon  the  home  and  home  circle  that  is 
found  in  communities  where  women 
enjoy  less  freedom.  From  the  French 
she  has  derived,  either  by  inheritance 
or  by  sympathetic  imitation,  that  grace 
and  lightness  that  has  made  the  Ameri- 
can woman  the  only  competitor  of  the 
chic  Parisienne.  The  habit  of  thinking 
for  herself  has  enabled  her  to  apply 
even  to  the  lighter  matters  of  dress 
and  demeanor  and  the  management  of 
her  household  the  same  Gallic  common 
sense  that  the  bright  French  woman  has 
otherwise  monopolized. 

26 


m' 


j*oi.(n.-riCiv',ncll;v  i^Ki-isr  /  '1  '''^- 


THE  ARMY  GIRL 


FOREWORD 

From  the  Celtic  have  been  derived 
two  characteristics  not  obtainable  else- 
where :  the  romanticism  that  gives  love 
of  poetry,  art,  and  music,  that  confers 
the  power  of  appreciating  them ;  and 
also  the  saving  grace  of  humor,  with- 
out which  great  powers  must  occasion- 
ally lead  their  possessor  into  undigni- 
fied absurdities,  and  with  which  comes 
the  wit  of  tongue  and  of  mind  that 
sweetens  the  acerbities  of  life  and  is 
to  clever  women  both  sword  and  shield 
in  social  life. 

It  is  not,  of  course,  asserted  that  so 
great  a  range  of  powers  is  granted  by 
the  eternal  gods  to  any  one  American 
woman;  but  can  it  be  denied  that  the 
best  type  of  American  woman  may 
possess  any  one  of  the  qualities  to  a 
high  degree  and  may  meet  upon  their 

27 


'HI 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

own  grounds  each  one  of  her  foreign 
sisters?  Indeed,  they  themselves  gen- 
erously credit  the  American  woman 
with  something  of  all  the  qualities  that 
have  been  named.  The  English  woman 
cannot  deny  to  her  the  full  measure  of 
physical  strength  and  grace;  the  French 
woman  admits  her  good  taste  and  her 
practical  good  sense;  the  German, 
though  she  may  deny  profundity,  con- 
cedes acuteness;  and  the  Irish  woman 
and  her  Scotch  sister  feel  sure  of  appre- 
ciation either  for  keen  wit  or  for  dry 
sarcasm.  With  the  American  woman 
each  foreign  woman  has  a  point  of 
sympathy  and  a  certitude  of  apprecia- 
tion that  she  does  not  so  often  find 
between  herself  and  the  typical  women 
of  other  nations. 

Is  it  surprising  that,  possessing  such 

28 


DSI' 


FOREWORD 

characteristics  and  formed  by  such 
influences,  the  American  girl  in  her 
early  maturity  reigns  an  acknowledged 
Queen?  By  the  blessing  of  Mother 
Nature  she  has  been  endowed  with  these 
varying  gifts  in  such  profusion  that  no 
heroine  of  a  fairy  tale  can  appear  a 
more  dazzling  vision  of  grace  and 
loveliness  than  the  young  American 
debutante,  when,  unspoiled  by  the 
world,  she  steps  over  the  threshold  of 
womanhood  to  enter  upon  her  wide 
kingdom. 


29 


'm 


THE  SWEET  GIRL  GRADUATE 


Cbc  Svccct  Girl  Graduate 

When  Tennyson  painted  for  us  his 
beautiful  medley,  ''The  Princess,"  it  is 
no  wonder  that  he  witched  the  world 
with  his  picture  of  the  girls'  college 
"compact  of  lucid  marbles,  bossed 
with  lengths  of  classic  frieze,  with  am- 
ple awnings  gay."  In  his  day  there 
was  no  foundation  other  than  the  poet's 
dream  for  that  seat  of  learning  where 
prudes  were  proctors,  dowagers  were 
deans,  and  presided  over  the  "Sweet 
Girl  Graduates." 

Now  the  dream  has  come  true, 
and  no  sooner  have  the  wedding-bells 
ceased  to  ring  the  departure  upon  their 
honeymoonings  of  that  priceless  annual 

33 


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THE  AMERICAN  GIRL 

crop,  the  **June  Brides,"  than  all  the 
college  bells  sound  their  musical  sum- 
mons to  the  Alumnae  and  their  friends, 
telling  them  that  Alma  Mater  is  once 
more  to  send  forth  those  Sweet  Girl  Grad- 
uates with  hair  not  more  often  golden 
than  any  other  shade.  What  Tennyson 
fabled  has  been  fulfilled  a  thousand  fold, 
and  the  educated  young  woman  has 
ceased  to  be  a  prodigy — even  to  herself. 

But  this  is  a  realization  that  is 
often  withheld  until  after  the  glories  of 
Commencement  Day. 

There  may  be  upon  our  patient  earth 
greater  glories  than  these.  Even  the 
graduating  class,  those  who  must  be 
called  ''grave  and  reverend  seniors" 
until  the  magic  diploma  shall  entitle 
them  "Sweet  Girl  Graduates,"  know 
(as  they   know   all  else)  that  they  are 

34 


HI' 


THE    GRADUATE 

not  the  greatest  things  on  earth;  but 
they  will  not  deny  that  they  feel  as  if 
they  were.  Of  course  there  are  the 
Faculty,  but  they  are  the  fixed  stars. 
They  remain  in  the  college  firmament^ 
and  shine  steadily.  They  are,  in  any  ar-^ 
tistic  presentation  of  Commencement 
Day,  a  background  to  set  forth  the 
main  figure  by  contrast.  But  the  Se-^ 
nior  Class  are  a  galaxy  of  comets. 
Their  orbits  have  for  a  while  brought 
them  within  the  precincts  of  the  col- 
lege, to  shine  with  more  or  less  bril- 
liance upon  that  tiny  world.  Now, 
wearing  a  train  and  showing  heads  more 
or  less  bright,  they  are  about  to  pass 
into  outer  space,  shining  more  or  less 
vividly  as  they  pursue  courses  no  astron- 
omer not  endowed  with  the  prescience 
of  the  Class  Prophet  could  predict. 

35 


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THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

No  wonder  they  expect  to  be  the 
cynosures  of  all  eyes.  No  wonder  that 
not  even  the  Faculty,  ''ranged"  like  the 
poet  Gay's  judges,  can  abash  them  be- 
yond a  point  sufficient  to  hasten  the 
beating  of  the  pure  little  hearts  until  a 
livelier  pink  suffuses  the  brightening 
cheeks,  and  makes  them  prettier  than 
ever.  How  impatiently,  with  the  neat 
essay  closely  gripped  in  dainty  hands, 
they  await  the  rising  of  the  President, 
that  tells  to  each  her  hour  has  come, 
and  she  must  face  the  critical  audience ! 

How  soon  that  fluttering  day  of  fans 
and  programmes,  ribbons  and  flounce- 
lets,  comes  to  dusk,  the  Ivy  Planting 
and  the  Parting  Ode.  To  the  joy  of 
graduating  succeeds  the  sorrow  of  fare- 
wells, for  the  crinkling  diploma  is  a 
dismissal  as  well  as  the  feeblest  of  pass- 

36 


m' 


^HW*'  '  V  i*.tiw|t  '  .    'luZ 


WATER  LIUES 


THE    GRADUATE 

ports  to  the  outer  world.  Too  soon  are 
the  trunks  packed,  the  chums  embraced, 
the  souvenirs  exchanged,  and  the  car- 
goes of  waving  graduates  carried  away 
with  eager  backward  looks  toward  the 
cheering  throngs  that  gather  to  bid 
them  Godspeed.  The  artist  in  paint- 
ing the  scene  would  scarce  know 
whether  to  entitle  it  ''The  End"  or 
"The  Beginning." 

But  when  the  highest  peak  of  the 
college  buildings  is  eclipsed  by  the 
hills,  and  the  journey  home  begins  in 
earnest,  it  is  found  there  is  balm  in 
Gilead,  and  a  silver  lining  even  to  the 
cloud  that  has  swallowed  the  college 
days,  with  their  succession  of  books  and 
work  and  healthful  play.  For  the  Am- 
erican college  girl  has  had  all  three. 
Tennyson's  girl  students  were  idealized 

37 


'nn 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

ior  poetry's  sake  ;  but  we  know  that  if 
they  were  bluestockings  of  their  time 
and  generation,  they  were  in  real  life 
anything  but  what  we  consider  types  of 
right  womanhood.  The  nymphs  of  his 
time  were  neither  naiads  nor  dryads. 
They  were  not  free  of  the  waters  and  the 
Avoods,  the  links,  the  courts,  and  the 
open  sea.  Prunes  and  prisms  were  their 
required  studies,  and  fainting  was  a 
popular  optional.  They  were  not  even 
picturesque. 

The  American  Girl  has  graduated 
from  all  three.  The  hand  that  swings 
the  tennis  racquet  is  the  hand  that 
rocks  the  cradle,  and  rocks  it  all  the 
better  for  having  learned  a  swifter  ser- 
vice. The  eye  that  geometrical  dia- 
grams would  otherwise  have  dimmed 
has  regained  its  brightness  in  following 

38 


HI' 


THE    GRADUATE 

the  long  drives  across  the  bunkers.  And 
now  that  she  has  earned  the  right  to  put 
aside  books  and  chemicals,  she  gladly 
dreams  of  a  long  succession  of  summer 
days  wherein  to  forget  the  rigidity  of 
logic,  the  big  words  of  psychology,  the 
pettiness  of  botanical  families,  and  to 
take  up  instead  the  pursuits  that  will 
pump  great  draughts  of  oxygen  into  the 
lungs,  tinge  with  crimson  the  life  cur- 
rents that  have  at  times  flagged  for  a 
season,  and  give  back  to  the  lithe  young 
body  the  supple  sprightliness  that  be- 
longs of  right  to  its  youth,  the  lines  of 
beauty  the  artist-eye  dwells  upon. 

Away  with  all  thoughts  of  gradua- 
tion, of  examinations,  of  text-books  and 
scholastic  standing !  Are  there  not 
newer  glories  to  be  won  in  the  Tennis 
Tournaments,   or  battles  to  be  fought 

39 


THE    GRADUATE 

with  that  firm  but  kindly  old  Colonel 
Bogey,  who  has  so  wonderful  a  knowl- 
edge of  all  the  ins  and  outs  of  every 
links,  and  who  is  so  terribly  hard  to 
beat — and  so  indifferent  when  over- 
come ?  Nor  must  the  long  hours  be 
forgotten  in  which  the  Sweet  Girl  Grad- 
uate follows  the  wholesome  advice  of 
Walt  Whitman,  when  she  ''loafes  and 
invites  her  soul." 

Then  are  the  hours  when  she  deigns 
to  admit  a  rivalry  on  the  part  of  flowers 
as  lovely  as  herself,  and  strolls  abroad 
amid  the  meadow's  beautiful  blooms, 
the  roadsides'  exquisite  fringing,  "un- 
profitably  gay,"  or  the  spangled  surface 
of  the  quiet  pool,  the  home  of  the  water- 
lilies.  The  spring  and  summer's  flow- 
ers seem  first  to  announce  and  then  to 
celebrate  the  coming  of  the  Girl  Grad- 

41 


HI 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

nates'  vacation.  They  are,  after  all, 
no  more  than  a  background,  and  the 
true  dominant  figure  of  the  composition 
does  not  arrive  until  the  ineffable  she 
stands  w^ith  her  dainty  figure  a-sway 
among  the  flowers — a  portrait  study 
made  to  order. 

Otherwise  we  should  have  no  pic- 
tures of  girlhood. 

It  is  right  that  a  period  of  outing 
and  fancy-free  days  should  intervene 
between  graduation  and  the  time  when 
the  responsibilities  of  life  are  assumed. 
Graduate  girls  as  well  as  men  need 
to  find  themselves  before  either  seeks 
or  finds  a  mate,  and  there  must  be 
something  more  than  the  school  or 
college  days  in  order  that  the  new- 
comer on  life's  stage  shall  be  able  to 
apply    the   old  Greek  saying,  "Know 

42 


Dfl' 


Wiruiat\|  Lbnn(iierLhr(5tY.j()06 


THE  GOLF  GIRL 


THE    GRADUATE 

thyself."  Hitherto  the  words  have  been 
little  more  than  a  sophomoric  sort  of 
class  motto,  fit  when  set  forth  in  those 
mysterious  Greek  letters  to  look  as  wise 
as  an  owl  and  to  have  as  little  real 
meaning.  Indeed,  without  a  desire  to 
be  worldly  wise,  the  elders  might  well 
advise  the  moth  to  fly  once  or  twice 
near  the  candle,  if  only  to  find  out  that 
it  has  heat  as  well  as  light  in  its  glare. 
The  entirely  prudent  chaperon  is 
not  she  who  shuts  the  door  of  the  castle 
with  bolts  and  bars  and  guards  it  with 
men-at-arms  in  full  panoply.  Rather 
will  she  encourage  the  Princess  to  make 
the  rounds  of  the  parapets  once  or  twice, 
to  stroll  now  and  again  in  the  courtyard, 
or  even  at  times,  under  suitable  escort, 
to  ride  abroad  where  the  Princes  meet 
at  tilt  and  tourney.     How  else  shall  the 

43 


HI 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

little  Princess  learn  to  know  her  own 
kind  from  the  baser-born?  Or  how 
shall  she  see  that  there  is  a  difference 
between  Prince  Charming  himself  and 
the  others  ?  A  few  vain  fancies,  even 
a  little  surface  heart-ache,  may  save  a 
real  trouble  later;  and,  without  brush- 
ing the  down  from  the  peach,  may  yet 
help  to  ripen  it — may  give  the  expres- 
sion that  spells  thought  and  experience 
to  the  limner  of  the  face. 

While  the  Girl  Graduate  is  yet  in  a 
little  fear  of  the  bigness  of  the  great 
round  world  and  the  queer  creatures 
that  roam  to  and  fro  over  its  surface, 
she  may  more  safely  be  allowed  a  little 
liberty  than  afterward,  when  she  has 
found  her  way  about  and  has  begun  to 
rely  upon  her  own  judgment  and  to 
question  the   infallibity  of  her   elders. 

44 


nn' 


THE    GRADUATE 


Be  thankful  that 
there  is  no  such  thing 
in  their  case  as  a  crop 
of  wild-oats  to  be 
sown  or  garnered,  and 
let  them  sow  the  few 
harmless  wild-flow- 
ers that  will  teach 
them  there  is  some- 
thing to  be  gathered 
from  the  earth  be- 
sides the  garden 
flowers  and  insipid 
vegetables.  A  bit  of 
nettle  may  sting 
their  fingers,  and  no 
doubt  there  will  be  a 
few  weeds  among 
the  posies  they  bring  home  from  the 
fields,  but  they  will  at  least  learn  the 

45 


tv     I 


C— JWl 


yCWferCjiff^--|<(0 


a 


A  COLLEGE  GIRL 


HI 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

look  of  poison-ivy  and  find  the  garden 
parterres  more  endurable  than  if  the 
gate  leading  into  the  outside  world 
were  never  opened  and  their  feet  never 
left  the  graveled  paths. 

But  of  course  all  this  sermonizing 
is  strictly  for  the  chaperon,  not  for  her 
young  charge.  Enough  for  the  girl  the 
zest  of  the  first  vacation  that  is  more 
than  a  recess  from  those  endless  terms 
and  semesters.  She  must  now  learn 
that  it  is  possible  to  live  a  few  months 
without  a  daily  letter  from  that  "most 
intimate  friend"  who  is  to  the  prospec- 
tive lover  a  mere  forerunner,  as  the  rag 
doll  is  to  the  infant. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  nip  this  eternal 
friendship  in  the  bud.  It  is  strictly 
self-limited,  like  some  other  disorders, 
and  will  run  its  course  without  harm  to 

46 


THE    GRADUATE 

the  patient  provided  it  is  not  caused  to 
strike  in  by  undue  repression.  Just  now 
both  feel  that  they  would  go  to  the  altar 
for  one  another ;  but  it  is  not  the  sacri- 
ficial but  the  matrimonial  altar  that  will 
put  an  end  to  this  endless  bond,  when 
one  is  the  other's  bride's-maid. 

So  do  not  grudge  the  reams  of  note- 
paper  nor  the  sheets  of  postage  stamps. 
The  latter  help  to  reduce  the  postal 
deficit,  and  the  letter-writing  is  the  best 
of  practice  for  those  daily  missives  that 
will  not  be  unlike  the  others  except  in 
beginning  ''Dearest  Harry"  instead  of 
''Dearest  Mabel."  Do  not,  either,  take 
pains  to  tell  your  young  charge  that  you 
have  been  through  it  before.  You  can 
nev^r  convince  her  of  the  fact,  and  you 
may  be  mistaken  in  your  belief.  Times 
are  changed,  and  your  old-time  friend- 

47 


'm 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

ship  with  Penelope — now  the  mother 
of  six,  the  eldest  a  junior  at  the  Univer- 
sity— may  not  be  the  identical  bond 
that  unites  this  Twentieth  Century  pair. 
If  all  this  is  aimed  over  the  head 
of  the  Sweet  Girl  Graduate,  and  is 
meant  for  the  ear  of  the  Kindly  Lady 
who  is  her  Keeper,  it  is  only  because 
the  youngster  herself  will  be  more  apt 
to  go  right  than  wrong,  and  is  likely 
to  need  the  chirrup  of  encouragement 
rather  than  a  strong  hand  upon  the  rein. 
Let  her  come  to  you  for  help  when  the 
paths  seem  to  divide,  and  do  not  cry  out 
*'Shoo!"  whenever  some  Prince  crosses 
her  path.  The  time  has  come  for  the 
exchange  of  words  and  glances,  and 
even  if  a  dainty  flower  is  thrown  now 
and  again  over  the  wall  there  is  no 
harm  done  and  none  meant.  The  flower 

48 


HI' 


THE    GRADUATE 

will  wither  soon  enough.  And  her  life- 
pictures  will  gain  a  touch  of  romance. 

The  Girl  must  learn  to  use  her 
weapons.  She  must  learn  to  keep  her 
eye  upon  the  adversary's,  to  have  a 
supple  wrist  and  a  steady  arm,  by  the 
handling  of  the  foils  before  the  days 
when  the  swords  are  pointed  and  the 
fencing  in  grim  earnest.  You  are  not 
always  to  be  at  her  side,  and  she  may 
have  to  take  lonely  roads  or  by-paths 
where  armed  highwaymen  are  now  and 
then  met  with.  In  those  days  she  will 
have  no  mattresse  d'  armes  to  teach  her 
the  sly  tricks  of  fence,  and  this  is  the 
time  of  peace  in  which  to  prepare  for 
war.  Remember  how  the  King  left  the 
Black  Prince  to  win  his  spurs,  and  what 
the  young  man  became. 

The   Sweet  Girl    Graduate   can  not 

49 


m 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

long  remain  in  this  quiet  valley  that 
intervenes  between  the  little  world  of 
college  and  the  great  world  of  all-out- 
doors. Here  she  has  no  real  duties 
save  to  prepare  for  those  that  are  to 
come.  She  is  like  the  young  Knight 
who  keeps  vigil  before  receiving  the 
accolade,  and,  if  she  has  been  faithfully 
nurtured  and  rightly  trained,  she  will 
have  made  for  herself  truer  and  more 
faithful  vows  than  we  can  teach  her. 


50 


m' 


THE  DEBUTANTE 


11 

Cbc  Debutante 

As  each  new  Spring  brings  its  harvest 
of  flowers,  so  each  social  season  sees  the 
advent  of  the  debutantes,  the  young  heir- 
esses of  all  that  is  most  precious  in  our 
civilization.  It  would  seem  as  if  this 
old  workaday  w^orld  with  its  absorption 
in  projects  the  most  practical — in  its 
digging  of  great  canals,  its  rearing  of  sky- 
scrapers, its  grim  making  of  wars,  prosy 
conclusion  of  treaties,  its  despatch- 
ing of  smoky  steamships,  its  running  of 
rumbling  trains,  would  have  no  time  and 
no  inclination  for  the  nurture  of  this  best 
of  its  products.  But  somehow  the  little 
ones  are  reared,  taught,  and  trained. 
They  grow  in  sweetness  and  in  beauty, 

53 


'M 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

amid  the  stone  and  brick  rows  of  cities, 
upon  the  lawns  and  garden  plots  of  the 
suburbs,  out  in  the  open  of  the  country- 
side; and  when  they  are  brought  by  the 
wholesome  air  and  clean  sunshine  to  full 
maturity,  then  the  apron-strings  are  cut, 
the  young  wings  are  spread,  and  out  into 
the  great  world  flies  the  girlish  flock — 
a  little  timid,  though  with  the  boldness 
of  innocence;  full  of  curiosity,  though 
assuming  an  air  of  worldly  knowledge 
that  deceives  not  even  themselves. 
Such  is  the  army  of  debutantes,  coming 
with  the  air  of  conquerors. 

To  them  the  whole  world  is  new, 
and  they  fondly  believe  that  they  are  as 
new  to  it;  and  yet — so  it  has  been  since 
the  old  world  began  its  wagging.  No 
sooner  was  marriage  and  the  giving  in 
marriage  invented  than  the  debutante 

54 


m' 


THE    DEBUTANTE 

became  a  fixed  institution — breaking 
her  way  from  the  home  shell,  to  walk 
abroad  and  gaze  with  wistful  wonder 
upon  mankind,  and  to  inspire  in  the 
artists  dreams  of  beauty  ever  new. 

Whether  robed  in  furs  and  adorned 
with  chipped  shells,  or  rustling  in  silks 
and  topped  by  a  powdered  pyramid  of 
hair,  the  debutante  stepped  upon  the 
world's  stage  to  stand  abashed  before 
her  admiring  audience  until  she  had 
regained  her  composure,  and  had  learned 
to  play  her  part. 

What  a  pageant  has  been  passing 
along  since  the  world  began!  Imagine 
the  successive  bevies  of  maidens  who 
have  turned  the  heads  of  all  our  fore- 
fathers !  Picture  to  yourselves  the  quaint 
and  curious  costumes,  the  old-time  airs 
and  graces,  the  play  of  fans  and  flutter 

55 


'm 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

of  ribbons,  the  pretty  coquetries  that 
wrought  the  subjection  of  our  great- 
great-grandfathers.  They  have  won 
the  homage  of  brush  and  palette  since 
such  things  were. 

And  with  each  generation  of  social 
princesses  there  has  been  the  throng  of 
male  courtiers  to  gather  about  each  and 
teach  her  sovereignty.  During  each 
brief  reign  her  little  comedies  and 
tragedies  are  enacted,  and  then  she 
makes  her  choice,  and  on  the  arm  of 
Prince  Charming  moves  gladly  into 
the  background  to  give  place  to  her 
younger  sister,  the  rightful  heiress  to 
the  throne. 

But  these  old-time  debutantes  cut  no 
figure  in  the  minds  of  our  American 
belles.  They  look  forward.  The  school- 
books  with  their  dry  annals  of  the  past 

56 


m' 


ccmruONT.  ItOt,  wOFFAr 


A  DEBUTANTE 


THE   DEBUTANTE 

are  too  recent  a  torture  to  make  real 
history  —  the  history  that  includes 
woman,  the  home,  and  the  fireside,  as 
well  as  man,  the  forum,  and  the  battle- 
field— an  attractive  field  of  thought. 

The  young  girl  finds  the  life  around 
her  better  worth  while  than  the  dead 
past.  She  prefers  to  see  the  ball-dress 
of  the  reigning  belle  to  reading  in  the 
pages  of  Dr.  Dryasdust  about  the  cos- 
tumes of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  and  Eliza- 
beth. To  her  the  only  memory  of 
Raleigh  worth  recalling  is  the  incident 
that  depicts  him  as  laying  with  his  rich 
cloak  a  path  for  both  his  royal  mistress 
and  for  himself — the  latter  a  short-cut 
to  her  favor.  If  she  would  re-read  her 
Elizabethan  history,  however,  she  might 
well  regret  those  days  of  courtly  phras- 
ing  and   deft   compliments.     Then   it 

57 


'm 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 


was  that  the  poets  knew 
how  to  sing  my  lady's 
jr     ^  _         praises  in  right  terms, 

^  u  though  the  artist  had 

^i'^^Mx^^M^        but  begun  to  know  his 
craft. 

But  much  of  it  was 
lip-service.  If  we  will 
not  learn  from  history, 
we  may  learn  from 
Shakespeare  not  to 
envy  the  lot  of  the 
women  of  Merry 
England.  Indeed,  we 
have  in  our  own  land 
the    very    best  of   the 

Elizabethan    traditions. 

The  best  manhood  of  that  time  was 

in  those  of  their  sons  who  left  England 

to  the  restored  Stuarts  and  crossed  the 

58 


HER  CARRIAGE  WAITS 


mr' 


THE   DEBUTANTE 

Atlantic  to  make  the  ''New  England,'' 
that  included  not  only  the  colonies  so 
called,  but  also  the  Virginias  and  their 
neighbors.  From  this  sturdiest  stock 
came  the  founders  of  the  new  world, 
and  no  small  element  of  their  strength 
was  in  their  respect  for  womanhood — a 
respect  that  came  with  them  into  the 
wilderness,  and  blessed  their  homes  in 
the  forest  clearings. 

It  is  a  pity  that  such  truths  must 
be  put  in  a  bookish  way.  It  would  be 
well  if  it  were  known  to  every  one  of 
our  American  girls  that  it  is  made  easier 
for  her  to  grow  into  a  pure  and  upright 
womanhood  because  the  men  who  made 
our  nation  were  the  husbands  of  good 
wives  and  the  fathers  of  true-hearted 
daughters.  They  respected  their  wom- 
ankind, and  they  taught  that  respect  to 

59 


'm 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

the  thousands  whose  ships  follow  theirs 
across  the  seas. 

He  was  a  good  American — that 
railroad  gatekeeper  who  stopped  the 
emigrant  family,  and  with  the  authority 
given  by  his  blue  coat  and  brass  buttons 
made  the  father  take  from  the  over- 
burdened wife  the  heavy  bundles  she 
was  carrying.  The  father  relieved  his 
helpmeet,  and  took  his  first  lesson  upon 
the  respect  due  womanhood  under  the 
Stars  and  Stripes.  It  was  a  moving 
picture  that  carried  a  moral. 

It  is  no  wonder  that  our  American 
debutante  comes  to  her  inheritance  as 
a  young  princess  is  presented  to  her 
loyal  subjects.  What  authority  she  has 
known  has  come  from  the  law  of  love, 
not  from  the  tyranny  of  manhood.  She 
has    been    guided    and    she    has    been 

60 


ID' 


THE   DEBUTANTE 

ruled,  but  the  bounds  set  to  her  liberty 
have  been  for  protection  rather  than 
restraint.  If  she  has,  even  in  girlhood, 
been  less  hedged  about  than  her  foreign 
cousins,  it  is  because  she  may  w^ander 
more  widely  without  fear  of  harm. 
Even  beyond  her  home  bounds,  she  has 
been  secure  in  the  protection  afforded 
by  the  knowledge  that  every  American 
man  worthy  of  the  name  has  been  her 
sworn  knight,  ready  to  keep  far  from 
her  whatever  might  in  any  way  offend 
or  do  harm. 

An  Englishman  expressed  amaze- 
ment at  the  absence  of  fences  about  our 
public  lawns,  asking  what  kept  the 
people  from  ruining  the  grass  and 
destroying  the  shrubbery.  But  his 
American  friend  asked,  ''Why  should  the 
people  do  harm  to  their  own  property?" 

61 


HI 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

And  so  it  is  with  our  American  girls. 
They  are  the  nation's  pride,  and  every 
American  is  vowed  to  come  to  their  aid 
if  summoned. 

It  is  not  the  chivahy  of  a  class,  but 
the  chivalry  of  a  people;  not  the  loyalty 
to  a  woman,  but  loyalty  to  womanhood 
that  safeguards  the  American  girl.  And 
she  is  like  a  sovereign  of  old  who  goes 
fearlessly  among  her  people,  knowing 
that  she  can  rely  upon  their  fealty  better 
than  upon  a  guard  of  armed  retainers. 

This  it  is  to  which  the  debutante  has 
looked  forward,  and  when  at  last  she 
feels  that  she  has  come  to  her  own  is 
there  any  wonder  that  her  cheeks  should 
glow,  her  eyes  gleam,  and  her  smiles 
shed  sunshine  ?  There  is  but  one  other 
season  in  her  life  that  can  rival  the 
triumph  of  these  first  days  of  freedom 

62 


VSH' 


"•^ 


AMERICAN  BEAUTIES 


THE  DEBUTANTE 

and  of  independence — the  maiden's 
Fourth  of  July.  Only  as  a  bride  does 
she  reach  greater  glories  and  reign  with 
more  assured  security. 

How  does  the  World  receive  the 
debutante  ?  Does  it  wrinkle  its  cynical 
brows,  narrow  its  weary  old  eyes,  and 
shake  the  head  of  doubt  over  the  young 
fledglings  that  stand  upon  the  edge  of 
their  nests  thinking,  with  longing  only 
faintly  tinged  by  dread,  of  their  first 
flight? 

Old  Father  Time  and  Old  World 
his  crony  must  have  their  thoughts. 
They  have  stood  the  clear-eyed  scrutiny 
of  so  many  youngsters — fine  or  super- 
fine ;  and  they  have  seen  so  many  bright 
eyes  lose  lustre,  become  dull,  and  at 
last  close  wearily,  that  the  old  couple 
cannot  quite  share  the  pretty  optimism 

63 


Ba 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

of  these  dainty  misses  looking  shyly 
into  the  great  assembly  room.  But  there 
is  an  understanding  between  the  two 
worn  Oldsters,  and  they  have  long  since 
agreed  that  there  would  be  only  cruelty 
in  turning  a  harsh  side  or  a  cold 
shoulder  upon  these  bright  maidens, 
who,  after  all,  are  the  greatest  treasures 
either  Gaffer  Earth  or  Father  Time  can 
ever  show. 

So  both  smile.  The  old  gentleman 
with  the  scythe  and  hour-glass  tries  to 
seem  accommodating.  Really — to  tell 
you  a  secret — he  never  changes  his  pace; 
but  to  suit  these  favorite  daughters  he 
will  seem  to  hustle  his  old  bones  along 
at  a  rate  none  of  their  elders  ever 
witness,  or,  again,  he  will  seem  to 
loiter  until  an  hour  seems  a  veritable 
age,    and    a   week    becomes    a    period 

64 


Da' 


THE  DEBUTANTE 

neither   end  of   which   is  visible  from 
the  middle. 

Sly  as  is  Father  Time,  his  co-con- 
spirator is  no  whit  behind  in  guileful 
benevolence.  By  a  curious  magic  akin 
to  alchemy  he  can  transmute  all  his 
outward  semblance  into  at  least  the 
glitter  of  gold;  by  an  art  that  puts  to 
shame  the  best  efforts  of  the  cosme- 
ticians he  can  sweep  from  his  fore- 
head the  furrows  of  trouble  and  care. 
So  it  is  that  the  fair  young  miss  sees 
nothing  to  justify  the  evil  reputation  of 
the  two  old  gentlemen  against  whom 
the  rest  of  us  cherish  so  many  grudges. 
Her  smiles  are  reflected  upon  their  aged 
masks  and  so  she  reads  nothing  of  their 
guile  and  guilt.  They  are  like  two 
old  patriarchs  who  sit  for  their  por- 
traits, trying  to  ''look  pleasant." 

65 


THE  DEBUTANTE 

To  such  a  young  questioner  as  she 
even  the  Sphinx  forbears  to  propound 
insoluble  riddles. 

Possibly  all  these  have  learned  the 
lesson  taught  by  the  Baroness  Bernstein. 
She  was,  you  remember,  only  our  Bea- 
trix Esmond  grown  old  and  wise ;  and 
she  knew  the  lessons  of  life  only  too  well. 
But  together  with  a  number  of  harsher 
maxims  she  had  some  merely  politic; 
and  among  them  this: 

''x\lways  be  civil  to  young  girls,  my 
dear.  You  never  know  whom  they 
may  marry." 

This  would  be  an  excellent  bit  of 
advice  for  all  of  us  worldlings;  and 
indeed  it  is  a  part  of  the  debutante's 
charm  that  she  alone  of  all  those  who 
make  up  society  has  the  magical  power 
of  transformation.    Before  our  very  eyes 

67 


'M 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

she  may  change  from  ragged  Cinderella 
into  the  gorgeous  Princess  whose  every- 
day wear  is  never  less  costly  than  old 
brocade  and  cloth  of  gold ;  arriving  in  a 
pumpkin  coach  with  a  rusty  old  rat  of 
a  coachman,  she  may  be  whisked  in  a 
jiffy  into  the  Royal  Coach  of  State 
with  gay  postillions  and  outriders,  all 
a-glitter  with  gilt  and  glowing  with 
crimson  that  shames  the  sunset  clouds. 

If  in  the  days  of  the  French  Revo- 
lution every  private  soldier  carried  a 
marshal's  baton  in  his  knapsack,  why 
may  not  every  American  girl  prudently 
carry  a  coronet  in  her  band-box — or,  at 
least,  in  the  modern  hat-trunk  that  has 
replaced  that  antediluvian  piece  of 
pasteboard  baggage? 

Thus,  in  one  sense,  she  is  as  new  as 
the  Spring  flowers,  and  the  very  embodi- 
es 


Dfl' 


THE  DEBUTANTE 

ment  of  youth.  But,  in  another,  she  is 
in  very  truth  the  heiress  of  all  the  ages. 
It  is  Charles  Reade  who  points  out  how 
we  juggle  with  the  word  ''antiquity," 
meaning  at  one  time  that  which  existed 
aforetime,  and  at  another  that  which 
has  come  latest  in  time  and  has  the 
longest  history.  The  American  girl 
herself  is  new  sprung  into  being,  but 
all  the  history  of  the  world  has  gone  to 
her  development.  The  ancients  lived 
in  the  world's  callow  days;  we  inherit 
all  their  store  and  that  of  the  whole  long 
genealogical  line  that  unites  our  day 
with  theirs. 

The  debutante  in  her  first  season  has 
required  to  equip  her  for  her  entry  into 
life  the  experience  of  all  the  ages.  She 
is  the  culmination  of  mankind's  long 
struggle  upward  from  his  barbarism  into 

69 


'm 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL  IN  THE  COUNTRY 


Ill 

Cbc  Hmcrican  Girl  in  the  Country 

Where  is  she  at  her  very  best? 
Where  is  she  in  her  element,  as  a  fish 
in  the  water,  a  bird  in  the  air,  a  tiger  in 
the  jungle?  To  which  scene  does  she 
add  just  what  it  seems  to  lack,  and 
which  without  her  presence  loses  its 
right  tang?  There  is  no  true  solution 
of  any  of  these  problems.  It  cannot  be 
said  that  the  American  girl  finds  her 
only  or  even  her  best  element  amid  sur- 
roundings of  any  one  kind.  We  must 
discriminate,  and,  while  admitting  that 
she  is  never  out  of  place  in  any  place 
where  she  ought  to  be,  yet  must  rec- 
ognize that  there  should  be  a  place  for 
every  girl  and  that  every  girl,  in  her 

73 


Ba 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

own  place,  shines  like  a  well-set  jewel, 
with  every  point  of  excellence  well 
displayed.  Against  every  background 
the  artist  will  find  her  an  inspiration 
and  a  study. 

Thus  we  have  the  Girl  of  the  Moun- 
tains, with  the  sturdy  frame  of  a  Tyrolese 
maiden  reproduced  in  lesser  proportions. 
She  is  the  one  who  looks  but  the  better 
when  the  mountain  breezes  play  among 
her  curls,  and  her  draperies  flutter  like 
the  banner  of  Freedom  when  it  was  first 
displayed  to  the  air.  If  she  carry  an 
alpenstock  it  becomes  a  veritable  wand, 
to  which  she  seems  to  lend  her  own 
magic  power. 

She  is  the  true  Oread,  the  Mountain 
Nymph,  and  seems  to  breathe  in  life 
from  the  gales  that  sweep  over  the  lofty 
uplands    or    snow-clad    peaks.     Every 

74 


m' 


-.?tfl:. 


ON  THE  BEACH 


IN    THE    COUNTRY 

attitude  is  a  new  revelation  of  her  grace 
and  her  daring,  and  the  whole  frame 
changes  from  balance  to  balance  as  if 
no  slope  was  too  steep  for  her  little  feet 
to  climb.  Her  eye  gazes  abroad  with 
a  freedom  that  scorns  a  narrow  horizon, 
and  she  seems  rightly  enthroned  when 
perched  upon  a  ledge  that  enables  her 
to  be  monarch  of  the  wide-spreading 
regions  she  surveys.  From  these  heights 
all  is  softened  into  a  hazy  beauty  from 
which  all  that  is  sordid  has  been  re- 
moved, leaving  only  broad  fields,  long 
winding  rivers,  placid  lakes,  and  plumy 
woodlands.  Rightly  painted,  her  face 
reflects  the  dreams  these  breadths 
inspire. 

If  she  has  a  companion,  it  is  only 
for  companionship,  not  for  aid.  He 
attends  her  steps,  but  does  not  lead  the 

75 


m 


IN   THE    COUNTRY 

weight  and  having  an  eye  slower  to 
spy  out  the  practicable  way.  And  when 
they  are  come  to  the  summit,  there  is 
little  frivolity  in  such  altitudes.  The 
big '  world  below  is  too  evident,  the 
wide  sweep  of  sky  is  too  grand  for 
inane  speech.  The  Mountain  Girl  is  of  a 
serious  frame  of  mind,  too  wholesome 
for  folly,  too  sedate  for  silliness,  and 
yet  with  a  whole-hearted  simplicity 
that  makes  her  the  best  of  friends,  and, 
at  the  right  time,  the  truest  of  lovers. 
She  does  not  lack  sentiment,  but  is 
never  sentimental.  For  the  sentimental 
we  must  descend  again  into  the  valleys, 
and  seek  the  little  lady  who,  perched  in 
an  easy  rocking-chair,  is  content  to  love 
the  purple  mountains  from  a  distance. 

The  true  Girl  of  the  Mountains  looks 
upon  them    as   a  challenge,  not   as   a 

77 


HI 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

dreamland  about  which  to  weave  vague 
and  unreal  romances. 

She  is  a  more  energetic  type  than 
her  sister  of  the  Shore. 

The  lover  of  the  beach,  be  it  under- 
stood, and  not  of  the  open  sea,  of  the 
land  rather  than  the  trackless  paths  of 
of  ocean,  is  the  true  Shore  Girl.  The 
summer  beach  is  hers;  the  long,  gently 
sloping  bank  of  yellow  and  gray,  trim- 
med with  the  brown  seaweeds,  defined 
by  the  green-tufted  sand  dunes  and 
patiently  suffering  the  beating  of  the 
billowing  breakers,  indifferent  whether 
these  come  in  raging  fury  like  a  con- 
quering army  of  horsemen,  or  whether 
they  steal  playfully  up  the  slope  like  a 
band  of  timid  children  trespassing  upon 
forbidden  ground. 

For  the  Shore  Girl  the  beach  is  at  its 

78 


HI' 


IN    THE    COUNTRY 

best  in  the  long  days  of  summer,  when 
the  sea  breeze  comes  steadily  in,  the 
breakers  roll  in  regular  succession,  the 
clouds  drift  slowly  by,  and  the  warm 
rays  of  the  sun  seem  to  permeate  like  a 
mild  old  wine,  strengthening,  warming, 
slightly  stimulating,  but  soothing  even 
more  than  they  excite.  These  are  for 
her  the  halcyon  days. 

She  may  claim  a  love  of  surf-bathing, 
and  certainly  appears  each  day  at  the 
bathing-hour  arrayed  for  a  meeting 
with  Father  Neptune.  But  the  embraces 
of  that  rather  unceremonious  old  salt 
are  rather  less  caressing  than  boisterous, 
and  she  seems  glad  enough  to  retire  to 
her  own  domain,  well  beyond  his  reach- 
ing foamy  fingers.  Surely  she  has  not 
the  eagerness  of  the  strong  swimmer 
who  darts  through  the  waves,  greets  the 

79 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL 

slapping  of  the  spray  with  a  laugh,  or 
lies  extended  in  the  salty  bath  feeling 
himself  one  with  the  sea  creatures,  or  at 
least  second  cousin  to  the  tumbling 
porpoise. 

The  Shore  Girl  likes  best  the  long 
hours  when  she  can  sit  gazing  out  to 
sea,  or  alongshore,  with  an  unread  book 
upon  her  lap,  and  a  bit  of  unworked 
fancy-work  loosely  held  in  her  lazy 
little  fingers.  But  she  does  not  seek 
nor  enjoy  solitude.  She  does  not  mind 
the  half-inaudible  gossiping  of  her  cha- 
peron and  another  dowager,  and  listens 
whenever  a  bit  of  harmless  scandal  is 
spicy  enough  to  hold  her  attention ;  she 
likes  to  see  her  little  brother  build  his 
sand  castles,  provided  he  come  not  too 
near;  and  she  certainly  has  not  the 
slightest    objection   when   some   other 

80 


ua' 


GATHERING  ARBUTUS 


IN    THE    COUNTRY 

girl's  brother  follows  her  little  footsteps 
to  the  lee  of  the  old  wreck,  and,  daring 
the  reserve  of  her  first  reception,  begins 
— oh,  so  lamely — the  little  talk  that  will 
excuse  him  for  lingering  at  her  side. 

But  she  makes  a  picture  that  cannot 
be  painted  from  observation.  The 
artist  must  re-create  it  from  the  merest 
sidelong  glances. 

Then  the  Shore  Girl  is  entirely  in 
her  element.  She  cares  little  for  the 
rugged  mountain-paths,  where  conver- 
sation is  impossible,  accepts  the  sea- 
bathing as  a  conventional  preamble, 
but  is  wholly  at  her  ease  only  when 
enjoying  the  ''sweet  do  nothing"  just 
beyond  the  waves'  furthest  line. 

But  there  are  others  than  the  lovers  of 
craggy  heights  and  smooth  sea-beaches. 
Shall  the  long  and  wandering  rivers  go 

81 


m 


IN    THE    COUNTRY 

their  way  to  the  ocean,  and  never  glow 
with  the  reflection  of  a  smiling  maiden's 
face,  or  glitter  with  the  light  of  her 
eyes  ?  The  question  is  put,  of  course, 
only  that  we  may  reply  with  a  heart- 
felt ''No — oh,  no!"  after  the  manner 
of  poets  and  emotional  dramas.  The 
debutante  is  not  the  only  one  who  goes 
down  to  the  sea  in  ships  or  leans  grace- 
fully over  the  side  of  a  rowboat  to 
dabble  her  pink  finger-tips  in  the 
water — to  the  ill-concealed  impatience 
of  her  escort  as  he  leans  well  over  to  the 
other  side  so  that  she  may  not  take  a 
sudden  ''header." 

For  my  little  Lady  of  the  Rivers,  like 
her  native  element,  is  a  sportive  imp; 
she  loves  the  play  and  the  dash,  the 
turn  and  the  sparkle,  the  sudden  rush 
of  the    rapids,    and    then    the    sedate 

83 


HI 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL 

gravity  of  the  wider  reaches  where  the 
river  begins  to  realize  that  it  has  gone 
from  the  childhood  of  a  trout  brook 
to  the  grave  manhood  of  a  highway  of 
commerce — all  are  hers. 

We  need  not  wrinkle  our  brows  too 
tightly  nor  think  too  deeply  to  know  it 
must  be  so.  The  playfulness  of  the 
maiden  —  if  it  be  real  play  and  not 
merely  the  twinkling  of  the  shallows — 
comes  when  the  spirit  is  relaxed.  One 
must  have  cried  to  know  how  to  laugh 
gaily,  and  this  Lady  of  the  Rivers,  who 
dabbles  her  hand  lightly  in  the  waters, 
knows  how  to  sit  firm  and  face  grimly 
the  race  of  the  rapids  when  the  boat 
shoots  like  an  arrow  and  the  next  instant 
bounds  like  a  bronco.  He  who  would 
paint  her  must  have  observed  her  in  all 
these  moods. 

84 


EI' 


IN  THE   COUNTRY 

It  is  the  love  of  novelty,  the  spirit  of 
adventure,  that  have  brought  her  into 
the  boat;  and,  if  need  be,  you  will  find 
her  capable  of  taking  an  oar  with  those 
firmly  grasping  fingers,  and  pulling 
away  for  dear  life.  She  is  of  the  breed 
of  those  oarsmen  who  pulled  Old  Iron- 
sides through  the  calm  and  distanced 
the  British  ships  in  that  flight  and  chase 
of  which  no  good  American  can  read 
without  exultation.  There  would  have 
been  no  need  for  the  poem  that  saved 
the  veteran  vessel  from  destruction  if 
the  Yankee  sailors  had  not  been  able 
to  outrow  their  English  pursuers;  and 
strength  is  not  all  which  goes  to  the 
making  of  an  oarsman  or  an  oars- 
woman. 

Very  likely  she  may  have  pulled 
stroke-oar  in  her  class-boat  at  college. 

85 


'm 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL 

At  all  events,  the  young  man  who  is 
desirous  of  ''showing  off"  will  be  wise 
to  look  well  to  his  feathering,  his  stroke, 
and  his  recovery,  if  he  mean  to  impress 
his  companion.  For  aught  he  knows, 
she  may  be  at  home  upon  the  deck  of  a 
careening  yacht  as  well  as  upon  the 
cushioned  thwarts  of  the  rowboat.  You 
can  never  be  sure  of  either  the  extent  or 
the  depth  of  her  knowledge. 

There  is  a  Nautical  Lass,  an  all" 
round  sailor  who  loves  everything  that 
floats,  and  can  handle  a  tiller,  tie  reef- 
points,  haul  and  coil  away  as  deftly  as 
any  old  tarry  salt.  She  may  for  the  time 
be  masquerading  as  the  River  Girl,  and, 
knowing  the  freemasonry  of  every  sort 
of  navigation,  she  may  hardly  be  distin- 
guished from  the  real  maid.  But  possi- 
bly there  is  to  the  keen  eye  a  difference. 

86 


HI' 


O 
Z 

< 


IN  THE   COUNTRY 

At  all  events,  having  met  this  beautiful 
buccaneer  upon  the  high  seas,  when  she 
is  all  keyed  to  concert  pitch  by  the  salt 
winds  and  the  long  swells  of  mid-ocean, 
you  will  see  how  little  moved  she  is 
save  by  the  true  blue  waves  themselves. 
Thereafter  she  will  never  be  mistaken 
for  the  inland  voyageur.  Her  very 
costume  suggests  the  deep-sea  tints  of 
waves  and  skies. 

If  you  are  a  yachtsman,  this  is  the 
girl  of  girls  when  the  white  sails  are 
spread,  the  wind  is  steady,  and  the  water 
goes  slapping  against  the  boat's  sleek 
sides.  There  may  not  be  many  words 
to  show  delight  in  the  Viking  craftsman- 
ship, but  the  keen  eyes,  the  firm  lips, 
the  bright  cheeks,  and  expanded  nostrils 
are  more  than  eloquent.  Whether  or 
not  she  knows  all  the  branches  of  her 

87 


m 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL 

family  tree,  you  may  be  sure  that  in  her 
veins  runs  the  blood  that  made  the 
American  Navy.  Some  of  her  ancestors 
humbled  the  pride  of  the  Barbary  Cor- 
sairs, burned  the  captured  Philadelphia, 
or — but  why  attempt  to  compress  into 
a  paragraph  even  the  greatest  exploits 
of  that  service  which  seems  to  find 
nothing  but  victories  on  every  sea  ?  To 
do  her  justice  one  must  paint  a  series  of 
pictures,  showing  battle  scenes,  wrecks, 
voyagers  in  unknown  seas. 

No  wonder  that  the  daughter  of  such 
men  loves  the  ocean ;  even  back  of  these 
later  ancestors  we  shall  find  men  of  her 
race  dominating  in  every  clime,  and 
though  our  ways  are  new  the  race  is 
unchanged. 


88 


m' 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL  IN  THE  CITY 


IV 

Cbc  Hmerican  Girl  in  tbc  City 

The  severest  test  of  our  American 
Girl  is  her  transplanting  to  urban  life. 
In  her  origin  she  is  a  product  of  colonial 
conditions ;  if  her  lineage  derives  from 
the  north,  she  must  partake  more  or  less 
of  farmer  stock;  if  from  the  south,  we 
have  only  to  put  the  word  plantation 
instead  of  the  word  farm;  but  the  true 
American  must  at  first  have  made  his 
living  from  the  soil.  Not  to  have  done 
so  proves  an  arrival  from  the  Old  World 
at  a  later  than  the  colonial  period  of  our 
history.  There  was  no  other  way  of 
making  a  living.  The  old  patroons, 
the  F.  F.  V.'s,  the  Knickerbockers,  the 
early   Westerners,    even,    rooted    their 

91 


'm 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL 

family  trees  in  the  good  old  Adam — the 
"red  earth,"  if  we  believe  the  accepted 
etymology  of  the  name  of  the  first  of 
mankind. 

Since,  we  have  seen  a  transforma- 
tion. We  have  seen  the  rise  of  the 
commercial,  the  manufacturing  class; 
if  old  homesteads  have  been  retained, 
they  have  become  country-houses,  and 
the  younger  generation  have  come  into 
town-life.  The  picturesque  is  sacrificed 
to  the  practical,  and  the  artist  is  put  to 
it  for  backgrounds  and  adjuncts. 

City  streets,  city  mansions,  manu- 
facturing, commerce,  and  transportation 
have  become  the  environment  of  the 
descendants  of  those  whose  roots  lay 
spread  in  the  country  ground.  Instead 
of  by  a  group  of  neighbors,  the  Ameri- 
can family  has  been  surrounded  by  the 

92 


m' 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL 

To  sum  up  the  change  in  a  phrase, 
friendships  have  become  aquaintance- 
ships.  This  is  the  evolution  of  what  is 
called  *' Society."  There  is  no  such 
thing,  no  need  of  the  term,  until  the 
older  and  simpler  ways  of  living  have 
given  place  to  a  more  artificial  substi- 
tute, bringing  also  a  new  literature,  a 
new  drama,  a  new  art — the  art  of  silks 
and  laces,  the  vers-de-soci'ete  of  illustra- 
tion and  painting. 

This  change  is  inevitable,  and  brings 
in  its  train  a  thousand  and  one  trans- 
formations, all  of  which  have  their 
influence  upon   the   young    girl. 

The  normal  excuse  for  the  social 
whirl  is  after  all  ''the  love  that  makes 
the  world  go  round,"  and  this  love  is 
that  which  leads  to  orange-blossoms  and 
the  wedding-march.     If  this  were  not 

94 


na' 


AT  THE  THEATRE 


IN  THE   CITY 

so — what  an  unbearable  round  of  trivi- 
alities would  be  the  tea-table  gather- 
ings, the  dances,  the  kettledrums,  the 
amateur  theatricals !  They  could  not 
end  save  in  the  nothingness  of  small- 
talk,  and  in  the  bathos  of  discarded 
ball-gowns.  Like  the  play  with  Ham- 
let omitted  is  the  ''Society-picture" 
where  love  is  not  the  motif. 

The  married  folk  either  have  or 
should  have  more  serious  pursuits. 
They  have  come  to  the  time  of  life 
when  ambition,  worldliness,  and  prac- 
ticalities overshadow  romance ;  and  for 
them  social  functions  are  the  smaller 
side  of  their  lives.  But  to  the  American 
Girl  in  Society  the  social  observances 
are  the  main  purpose  of  her  life.  For 
her  these  gatherings  of  young  and  old, 
these    passings,    greetings,    eddies    of 

95 


VSL 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL 

small  talk,  these  dramas  in  petto,  these 
tragedies  of  a  lost  glove,  of  a  faded  rose; 
the  little  battles  of  wit,  waged  as  keenly 
as  if  for  an  empire,  are  fraught  with 
great  issues.  For  her  each  new  intro- 
duction may  be  the  ''Open,  Sesame," 
to  a  fairyland,  to  a  treasure-house  or  to 
a  den  of  robbers.  Naturally,  then,  it  is 
a  matter  of  moment,  and  in  no  way  to 
be  compared  to  the  casual  meetings  of 
her  elders. 

Likewise,  to  her,  each  theatre-party, 
dinner,  assembly — may  be  the  occasion 
ever  more  to  be  marked  with  a  golden 
number  or  a  red-letter.  She  must  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously  carry  out  the 
scriptural  injunction  to  watch  for  she 
knoweth  not  when  the  bridegroom 
Cometh. 

Believe  it  or  not,  as  you  please,  the 

96 


IE' 


IN  THE   CITY 

young  Girl  and  her  satellite  the  young 
man  are  the  central  orbs  around  which 
all  city-life  that  is  not  merely  utilitarian 
must  revolve.  And  when  the  American 
Girl  was  transplanted  from  the  country 
to  the  city  she  was  profoundly  influ- 
enced and  materially  changed.  She 
assumed  two  new  layers.  Popular  lan- 
guage calls  them  by  two  words  that 
mean  much.  She  assumed  both  a 
"veneer  "  and  a  "polish."  The  first  is 
a  borrowed  surface,  the  second  a  mere 
finish.     Both  were   a   necessity. 

With  the  growth  of  a  true  "Society  " 
came  its  formalities,  its  observances,  its 
conventions;  and  these  the  American 
Girl  acquired  with  the  quickness  of  a 
ready  brain,  an  observant  eye,  a  docile 
spirit.  Coming  of  people  who  had  fought 
the  formal,  she  did  not  receive  unques- 

97 


m 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL 

tioningly  all  imported  from  abroad, 
neither  did  she  hasten  to  abandon  her 
own  ways  for  new  simply  because  some 
of  the  new  ways  were  requisite. 

Possibly,  while  in  transition  from  the 
old  to  the  new,  the  American  Girl  gave 
the  foreign  aristocrats  some  cause  for 
mirth,  some  excuse  for  an  occasional 
criticism.  She  had  a  lesson  to  learn, 
and,  like  all  new  pupils,  was  hazed  by 
the  older  students.  But  she  soon  acquired 
and  assimilated  all  that  she  cared  to 
make  her  own,  and  then  proceeded  to 
modify  what  she  had  learned,  as  her 
brother  acquired  and  modified  the  game 
of  Rugby  football.  She  put  on  such  of 
her  foreign  sisters'  garments  as  suited 
her,  and  subordinated  them  to  herself. 
She  may  be  painted  in  a  mantilla  or 
bolero  jacket,  as  the  artist  chooses. 

98 
HI' 


IN  THE   CITY 

From  being  a  docile  pupil  she  soon 
became  an  innovator,  an  inventor,  a  dic- 
tator of  social  usages.  The  American 
Girl  abroad,  laughed  at  for  a  few  sea- 
sons, became  an  equal,  a  rival — and  at 
last  bids  fair  to  give  lessons  to  her 
teachers.  Wherever  the  American  Girl 
has  gone,  is  it  not  true  that  she  has 
begun  as  the  Japanese  began,  by  learn- 
ing all  the  foreigner  had  to  teach,  and, 
w^ith  this  start,  soon  passed  beyond  the 
teacher's  highest  achievements?  Ask 
the  English  what  the  American  Cousine 
has  accomplished  in  the  social  and 
political  life  of  the  Empire. 

That  the  same  thing  cannot  be  said 
of  other  lands  is  due  to  the  lack  of  a 
universal  language.  If  the  young  girls 
of  other  lands  knew  their  own  best 
interests,  they  would  fight  the  introduc- 

99 


'HI 


IN  THE   CITY 

tion  of  Esperanto — the  world  language. 
If  all  the  world  were  Esperantists,  there 
would  be  no  possible  bound  to  the  con- 
quests of  Miss  America.  Say  what  they 
may,  it  is  not  only  the  American  dollars 
that  win  the  foreign  noblemen.  Who 
would  not  rather  marry  a  boon  compan- 
ion than  a  mere  feminine  nonentity?  The 
American  Girl  has  not  been  taught  to 
distrust  everything  in  the  shape  of  man, 
and  even  when  she  enters  through  the 
city-gates  she  does  not  become  a  mere 
cipher  to  be  annexed  to  some  signifi- 
cant masculine  digit. 

We  read  in  a  current  newspaper  that 
'*  Woman  is,  of  course,  affected  by  the 
motor-car  in  a  variety  of  ways,  for  it  has 
revolutionized  many  things  feminine — 
love,  friendship,  social  affairs,  dress,  the 
toilet,  the  complexion."  But  the  Amer- 

101 


'm 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL 

ican  Girl  is  adaptable,  and  will  not  be 
less  charming  because  of  such  modifi- 
cations. Even  in  the  motor-car,  she  is 
not  willing  to  be  only  a  passenger.  She 
does  not  wrap  herself  in  her  dust-coat 
while  Sir  Galahad  is  trying  in  vain  to 
adjust  the  other  sparker.  She  learns 
how  the  wheels  go  round,  and  becomes 
quite  capable  of  taking  a  hand  as  the 
most  daring  and  capable  of  chauffeuses. 
She  knows  how  to  swing  around  a  curve 
without  skidding,  and  can  ease  the 
motor-car  over  a  rough  road  as  skill- 
fully as  her  brother.  She  may  well  be 
the  artists'  inspiration  to  paint  a  new 
"Chariot  Race  "  in  which  she  shall  be 
the  central  figure — the  charioteer  in 
triumph ! 

She  knows  the  pride  of  a  creditable 
run,  the  joys  of  full  speed,  and  the  fas- 

102 


na' 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL 

cination  of  the  open  road.  No  wonder 
that  she  is  a  welcome  companion  in 
every  car,  the  sworn  ally  of  the  ama- 
teur chauffeur,  and  that  her  fluttering 
veil  is  the  standard  of  the  modern  knight 
of  the  roavl.  Then,  too,  when  the  car 
is  safely  housed,  and  the  guests  gather 
around  the  table  at  the  country  house, 
she  is  none  the  less  delightfully  fem- 
inine and  domestic,  although  she  may 
have  come  from  the  city  limits  at  the 
rate  of  sixty  miles  an  hour.  She  has 
the  physique  that  despises  the  vibrating 
car,  the  wit  and  grace  that  spiritualizes 
the  dinner  table,  the  tact  that  puts  her 
friends  at  their  ease. 

Without  being  dominated  by  them, 
she  accepts  the  limitations  of  urban  life, 
makes  them  her  own  means  of  expres- 
sion, and  thereby  regains  the  freedom 

104 


151' 


IN  THE   CITY 

of  which  they  might  have  deprived  her. 
Only  in  her  own  land  is  this  possible  to 
woman. 

In  America  exists  no  fixed  aristoc- 
racy. Even  Trust  Magnates  do  not 
dominate  our  social  life.  Millionaires 
cannot  make  vulgarity  fashionable  be- 
yond a  certain  parasitic  circle.  Great 
artists  and  great  writers — what  Amer- 
ican Girl  yields  in  social  matters  to  the 
authority  of  a  picture  or  a  novel,  of  the 
wielders  of  brush  or  pen  ? 

Quite  often  the  social  conventions 
of  a  city  are  established  by  some  un- 
pretentious little  dame  whose  rule  is 
based  upon  the  consent  of  the  gover- 
ened,  and  justified  by  a  long  record  of 
successful  administration. 

Men  are  what  women  make  them, 
and  as  the  young  girl  is  bent  so  is  the 

105 


m 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL 

matron  inclined.  The  American  Girl 
worships  her  own  social  idols,  and  these 
she  makes  for  herself.  Missionaries 
from  abroad  may  now  and  then  make 
a  few  proselytes  to  another  cult;  but 
their  converts  are  never  many. 

Whether  this  social  state  will  last, 
is  another  question.  May  we  confess 
frankly  that  we  do  not  know?  Social 
philosophers  have  been  absurdly  wrong 
in  their  forecasts  about  American  af- 
fairs. The  American  Girl  is  a  new 
element  in  history,  and  whether  she 
will  become  like  her  sisters  of  other 
lands  no  man  can  safely  predict.  She 
has  not  been  subjugated,  she  has  not 
been  unsexed,  she  has  not  been  trans- 
formed into  the  bachelor  girl,  nor  yet 
into  the  short-haired  suffragist.  She 
has   gone    on   as   she    began — growing 

106 


DII' 


""•'^  Chondfer  Chr.^w^,^ 


A  FAIR  CHAUFFEUR 


IN  THE   CITY 

from  a  boyish  childhood  into  an  un- 
afraid maidenliness,  then  into  a  capable 
matronage,  and  later  into  an  unsoured 
old  age,  leaving  to  her  successors  an 
example  worthy  of  their  emulation. 

The  poets  and  artists  depict  her  as 
she  is, — and  are  grateful.  They  do 
not  attempt  prophecy. 

We  have  no  fears  that  city  life  will 
change  more  than  externals,  nor  that 
in  becoming  a  society  woman  she  will 
sacrifice  her  domestic  virtues.  It  is 
fortunate  that  our  cities  are  new,  that 
with  all  their  bigness  they  do  not  en- 
slave and  color  the  soul  as  do  London 
and  Paris,  Berlin,  Vienna  and  Rome. 

The  American  Girl  derives  from  the 
whole  sweep  of  the  nation.  She  achieves 
by  her  birthright  the  Freedom  of  All 
Cities,  and  owns  them  all,  as  they  all 

107 


'IffI 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL 

own  her.  We  have  no  New  Yorker,  no 
Bostonian,  no  Philadelphian,  no  Vir- 
ginian or  South  Carolinian  who  feels  by 
birth  excluded  from  pride  or  sympathy 
with  other  Americans.  If  there  exists  a 
local  pride,  it  is  jocularly  urged  and 
apologetically  claimed.  If  we  try  to 
picture  a  city  type,  it  must  be  labeled 
before  it  can  be  recognized. 

That  it  exists  we  do  not  deny,  but 
it  has  not  sufficient  vitality  to  survive 
when  brought  into  conflict  with  true 
patriotism.  The  American  Girl  is  not 
of  a  city  or  a  state,  but  the  whole 
boundless  continent  is  hers. 


108 


ra' 


5^i 

^^^ 

J 

^^^Hftk 

vji^^^^H 

f 

1 
■ 

J^ 

-«..    % 

^^^^K'-^  ^'          ''^^ 

^^ 

THE  AMERICAN  GIRL  IN  SOCIETY 


V 

Cbe  Hmcrican  Girl  in  Society 

It  is  fruitless  to  consider  the  Amer- 
ican Girl  as  a  generic  problem.  No 
mere  man  has  ever  been  able  to 
approach  to  a  comprehension  of  the 
complexity  that  makes  up  the  femi- 
nine nature;  but  those  have  come 
the  nearest  to  an  understanding  who 
have  frankly  given  up  the  study  of 
the  species  and  been  content  to  become 
specialists — students    of   the  individual. 

If  in  all  the  humility  of  a  worshiper 
one  approaches  the  single  divinity 
in  petticoats,  he  may  hope  to  arrive 
at  a  point  where  he  recognizes  his 
blunders  at  the  time  of  making,  or 
soon     after     they     have     been     made. 

Ill 


m 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

Only  so  can  one,  by  a  lifetime  of 
devotion,  achieve  some  knowledge  of 
the  numberless  divagations  of  the 
feminine  mind.  Certainly  he  who 
was  interested  only  scientifically  in  the 
study  would  never  choose  the  Amer- 
ican Girl  as  an  "easy  optional."  He 
would  choose,  rather,  some  being  of 
unmixed  race,  subject  to  simpler  con- 
ditions, and  in  a  state  of  civilization 
that  had  come  to  some  well-fixed  con- 
clusions  in  regard  to  its  own  status. 

The  artist's  problem  is  hard  enough 
without  so  puzzling  a  subject  to  com- 
plicate it. 

In  the  American  Girl  are  none  of 
these.  She  is  the  product  of  half  a 
dozen  civilizations;  she  has  been 
brought  up  from  childhood  on  an 
eclectic  system  that  strives  to  combine 

112 


na' 


IN    SOCIETY 

the  best  feat- 
ures of  all,  and 
—  one  may 
well  wonder 
whether  she 
understands 
herself.  What 
with  German 
music,  French 
art,  English 
li  tera  ture, 
Irish  humor, 
Scotch  theol- 
ogy, and  Aus- 
trian etiquette 
— to  say  noth- 
ing of  Japanese  physical  culture  and 
a  touch  of  Hindu  theosophy,  it  is  a 
wonder  that  there  is  any  trace  of  true 
native    Americanism    left    in    the    fair 

113 


A    SOCIETY   GIRL 


HI 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

creature.  She  is  a  composite  photo- 
graph of  all  civilizations. 

And  yet,  despite  surface  embroidery, 
there  is  the  solid  warp  and  woof  of 
the  homespun  fabric.  In  individual 
cases  this  may  have  become  lost  to  sight, 
but  when  there  comes  the  wear  of  life, 
and  the  surface  of  the  true  fabric  is 
revealed,  it  is  found  to  be  the  same 
strong,  enduring  stuff  that  her  great- 
grandmothers  knew.  And  it  is  the 
harmonizing  of  this  wear  that  gives  to 
the  fabric  the  autumnal  beauty  of 
middle  life. 

She  has  her  days  and  her  evenings  of 
pure  frivoling.  She  knows  the  merely 
ephemeral  novel,  and  pretends  to  be 
absorbed  in  the  shallow  fortunes  of  the 
paper  people  within  its  covers.  She 
knows  the  vaudeville  show  and  enjoys 

114 


m' 


IN    SOCIETY 

its  nonsense  as  heartily  as  in  the  season 
she  follows  the  grand  opera  and  criti- 
cises the  voice  of  the  tenor  or  the  basso. 
She  does  not  disdain  the  matinee,  box 
of  bonbons  and  all,  and  permits  herself 
the  indulgence  of  the  photograph  of 
her  favorite  first   juvenile. 

Not  a  prude,  she  yet  enforces  the 
respect  that  is  the  tribute  to  her  pure 
w^omanhood,  and  enjoys  the  freedom 
that  comes  from  fearless  innocence 
rather  than  enforced  ignorance.  She 
allows  herself  even  the  harmless  flirta- 
tions that  add  spice  to  her  little  pseudo- 
romances,  and  ever  delights  to  play  the 
petty  tyrant  over  the  square-shouldered 
giant  whom  in  reality  she  holds  in  an 
awe  he  never  suspects.  She  never  seems 
conscious  of  those  challenging  glances 
he  directs  toward   his  capricious  sover- 

115 


'm 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

eign,  being  as  evasive  as  the  rainbow 
and  as  indifferent  as  the  Sphinx.  So 
Gerome's  great  painting  of  Napoleon 
in  Egypt,  gazing  upon  that  questioning 
Colossus,  has  its  little  parallels  in  every- 
day life. 

It  is  a  pretty  comedy  when  watched 
by  the  veterans  who  have  won  or  lost 
their  own  battles  years  ago.  Wiles  that 
were  old  before  the  flood,  tricks  that  en- 
snared the  great-great-grandfathers  of  our 
great-great-grandfathers,  are  ' 'invented ' ' 
anew  by  these  little  harmless  sinners, 
and  the  heroes  of  the  University  races, 
of  the  football-field,  the  Solons  of 
the  Senior  classes,  bark  their  awkward 
shins  or  bump  their  great  foreheads 
over  the  same  barriers  that  have  tripped 
up  the  thousands  and  tens  of  thou- 
sands   of    their   wise  elders.     And    one 

116 


ni' 


IN    SOCIETY 

need  not  be  a  major  prophet  to  predict 
with  all  certainty  that  little  boys  now 
in  their  cradles  will  make  the  same 
obstacle-race   with    the   same  stumbles. 

The  course  over  which  true  love  must 
run  will  never  be  so  mapped  that 
youngsters  will  find  it  clear  or  smooth. 
Yet  competitors  present  themselves  as 
eagerly  every  hour;  prizes  are  won, 
and  indeed  they  are  all  well  worth 
the  running  and  the  winning — and  as 
well  worth  the  study  of  the  looker-on. 

It  is  a  sort  of  bridge-whist,  wherein 
the  man  always  plays  the  dummy,  al- 
ways loses  the  game,  and  yet  is  very 
likely  to  carry  oflE  the  stakes — won  or 
unwon.  It  is  perhaps  more  a  game 
of  poker,  in  which  not  the  best  hand 
but  the  best  bluff  wins.  Among  cer- 
tain savage  tribes  there  is  an  institution 

117 


m 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

known  as  the  marriage-race.  In  this 
particular  means  of  match-making,  the 
blushing  and  diffident  maiden  is  al- 
lowed a  start  of  the  pursuing  lover — 
a  start  so  nicely  calculated  that  only  by 
a  careful  pretense  of  being  unable  to 
escape  can  she  let  the  right  man  win 
— all  others  being  hopelessly  distanced. 

Our  own  methods  diflFer  in  outward 
semblance — but  are  they  so  very  un- 
like in  essence  ?  All  the  handicapping 
is  in  the  girPs  favor,  and  poor  Prince 
Charming  is  allowed  only  the  advan- 
tage of  being  able  to  put  an  end  to 
his  doubts  and  discouragements  by  the 
expedient  of  jumping  from  the  frying- 
pan  of  courtship  into  the  fire  of  a 
proposal. 

Until  he  has  been  brought  to  that 
point — for   brought  he  is,  whatever  he 

118 


Da' 


IN    SOCIETY 

may  think,  and  brought  by  an  art  that 
is  at  times  concealed  from  the  fair 
diplomatist  herself — he  is  the  victim 
of  a  being  of  capricious  moods  and 
fancies,  a  being  only  the  more  fasci- 
nating because  of  her  ability  to  deal 
with  the  same  pink  fingers  a  cruel 
blow  or  a  sweet  caress.  Since  the 
world  learned  its  runes  and  developed 
them  into  the  A,  B,  C,  poor  man  has 
found  no  truer  type  of  the  feminine 
hand  than  the  kitten's  paw — velvety 
softness  and  cruel  little  claws  that  can 
draw  blood  when  the  owner  chooses 
to  give  pain. 

Against  his  small  foe,  what  defense 
has  man?  Only  a  violence  that  he 
dare  not  use.  Hence  his  subjugation, 
and  his  fear.  He  is  like  an  athlete 
attacked  by  an  angry  and  fearless  small 

119 


'm 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

boy ;  his  best  plan  is  to  retreat,  and 
wait  until  reason  resumes  its  sway — 
which,  in  the  case  of  a  being  swayed 
by  impulse,  may  well  be  some  time. 
Possibly  the  reason  all  the  world  lov^es 
a  lover  is  found  in  man's  sympathy 
and  woman's  regret  for  the  suffering 
the  poor  fellow  is  undergoing. 

And  yet,  who  would  not  recall 
those  glorious  days  when  first  the  in- 
effable She  has  become  incarnate  before 
his  enraptured  eyes?  Every  fibre  of  a 
man's  being  is  thrilled  to  the  music 
of  his  soul ;  and  together  with  the 
rapture  of  the  poet,  the  beauty-love 
of  the  painter,  the  ardor  of  the  hunter, 
the  subtle  scheming  of  the  statesman, 
he  knows  the  madness  of  the  gambler 
who  has  staked  his  happiness  upon  the 
word  of  one  who  is  to  him  an  unsolved 

120 


m' 


AT  THE  OPERA 


IN    SOCIETY 

mystery.  No  wonder  the  great  painters 
loved  to  paint  the  episodes  of  court- 
ship and  love. 

And  the  whole  disease,  or  unease, 
is  an  epidemic,  ever  old,  ever  new. 
The  cure  is  possible  but  never  certain ; 
and  the  malady  one  that  never  loses  its 
interest  for  all  the  world  and  his  wife. 
To  escape  its  ravages  is  not  to  be  im- 
mune from  curiosity  concerning  its 
eflFect  upon  others,  and  so  the  big  world 
looks  on,  either  praising  or  blaming, 
laughing  or  crying,  and  no  sooner 
does  one  pair  of  lovers  cross  the  stage, 
disappearing  into  the  wings,  than 
another  couple  paces  along  in  their 
predecessors'  footsteps,  and  there  is 
a  continuous  performance  of  the  great 
Tragi-Comedy  of  *'The  Way  of  a  Man 
With  a  Maid."     No  wonder  that  the 

121 


HI 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

veterans  who  have  played  their  parts 
glance  ever  up  from  the  whist-table,  the 
embroidery-frame,  or  the  improving 
book  "suited  to  their  age,"  and  smile 
to  see  the  young  couple  holding  other 
hands  than  those  dealt  them,  and  play- 
ing a  game  older  than  chess,  draughts, 
or  blindman's  buflF. 

Perhaps  we  are  prejudiced  in  prefer- 
ring the  American  Girl  as  an  opponent 
in  this  old  pastime.  If  so,  we  are 
willing  that  other  nations  should  make 
choice  of  their  own  compatriots,  and 
leave  the  native  girls  to  our  own  young 
men.  If  there  must  be  a  protective 
tariff,  it  should  take  the  form  of  a 
prohibitive  tax  on  the  permanent  ex- 
portation   of    American    daughters. 

Every  mother's  daughter  of  them 
should  be  required  to  file  an  enormous 

122 


Bfl' 


IN    SOCIETY 

bond,  forfeitable  unless  she  returned 
and  married  on  this  land.  Should  there 
be  a  young  man  abroad  capable  of 
rightly  appreciating  one  of  our  young 
Princesses,  he  should  prove  his  devotion 
and  his  good  sense  by  immediately 
forswearing  allegiance  to  all  other  po- 
tentates and  powers  except  the  said 
American  Princess,  and  taking  out 
naturalization-papers  as  a  preliminary 
to  the  marriage-license  or  the  wed- 
ding-certificate. 

Since  he  has  appreciated  an  Ameri- 
can girl,  he  ought  to  make  a  good 
citizen  of  the  Republic.  To  such  im- 
migrants the  most  rabid  American  could 
find  no  well-founded  objection.  We 
commend  the  proper  legislation  to 
the  attention  of  both  houses  of  Con- 
gress.     But  we   do   not  promise,    that 

123 


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THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

if  the  bill  passes  it  will  secure  for 
them  the  favor  of  the  American  girl, 
•nor  yet  of  that  lady's  mother.  It  is 
the  duty  of  statesmen  to  legislate, 
while  artists  or  poets  or  novelists 
record  facts  or  fancies  as  they  present 
themselves. 

Possibly  it  will  be  best  to  leave  the 
foreign  nobleman  a  fair  field,  so  that 
the  young  man  of  the  Republic  may 
be  put  upon  his  mettle  and  be 
awakened  to  ardor  in  the  pursuit  of 
his  by  no  means  reluctant  quarry.  It 
does  not  seem  a  right  place  for  the 
application  of  the  doctrine  of  pro- 
tection, since  the  American  Young 
Girl  scorns  to  be  protected;  the  Ameri- 
can young  man  is  quite  ready  and 
able  to  undertake  the  enterprise  of 
protecting  her,  and  the  foreign  noble- 

124 


m^ 


IN    SOCIETY 

man  will  be  entirely  safe  if  only  he 
will  consent   to   stay   at   home. 

Indeed,  the  exodus  of  American 
Girls  into  foreign  lands  can  at  worst 
only  hasten  that  Americanizing  of  the 
world,  of  which  some  foreign  authors 
are  beginning  to  write  essays;  and 
therefore  they  may  be  doing  their 
native  land  some  service.  They  bring 
new  ideals  to  foreign  artists;  new  in- 
spiration to  outland  poets. 

Really,  we  have  wandered  some- 
what from  our  subject,  and  can  plead 
in  excuse  only  that  as  trade  follows 
the  flag  so  do  our  thoughts  follow  the 
American  Girl  into  whatever  strange 
land  she  may  decide  that  fate,  in  the 
shape  of  the  little  blind  god^  has  called 
her.  At  home,  she  plays  so  many 
parts  that  there  is,   however,  no  excuse 

125 


m 


IN    SOCIETY 

for  crossing  the  ocean  in  the  wake  of 
the  ocean-steamer  that  carries  a  few 
of   her    kind    away. 

We  have  no  space  to  speak  of  more 
than  the  merest  fraction  of  her  notable 
activities.  Who  could  not  write  in  her 
praise  a  chapter  upon  a  dozen  or  more 
of  the  capacities  in  which  she  is  known  ? 
There  is  plenty  to  be  said  of  her  as 
"The  Big  Sister";  for  how  can  a  small 
boy  of  the  right  sort  have  a  better 
guide,  philosopher,  mentor,  and  friend 
than  she?  Whether  as  deputy-mother, 
confidante,  confederate,  or  companion 
in  mischief,  as  consoler  in  trouble,  and 
sympathizer  in  joy,  he  is  a  fortun- 
ate fellow  who  claims  the  American 
Girl  as  sister.  And  yet  young  men 
never  welcome  the  proposal  that 
another's    sister    shall     play     the     part 

127 


HI 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

toward  them.  Nor  because  we  have 
dealt  chiefly  with  the  daughters  of  the 
rich,  with  the  young  lady  of  fashion 
and  social  rank,  must  it  be  thought 
that  we  do  not  credit  to  her  of  humbler 
station  virtues  as    great    or   greater. 

Wealth  enables  the  fortunate  pos- 
sessor to  live  out  her  thoughts,  gives 
time  and  leisure  for  other  than  the 
more  prosaic  duties,  and  makes  a  girl 
such  that  she  is  the  more  available  sub- 
ject for  artist,  or  writer,  or  dramatist. 
There  is  in  every-day  life  plenty  of  the 
patched  garments,  the  bread-and-butter 
round  of  duties,  the  trolley-car  riding, 
the  rainy-day  traipsing,  bundles,  bills 
and    bother. 

The  rich  are  often  quite  as  subject 
to  temptations,  and  to  temptations 
that  assume  the  most  seductive  shapes; 

128 


Dfl' 


.-ii..MUi  CLi  Jivi  ktUTi^^ 


^^ 


THE  DANCE 


IN    SOCIETY 

and  if  we  can  declare  the  rich  Amer- 
ican Girl  sound  and  wholesome  in  her 
womanhood,  we  may  be  sure  that  this 
side  of  bitter  poverty,  of  the  poverty 
that  forbids  us  to  blame  the  poor 
creature  whom  it  drives  into  wrong — 
we  shall  find  the  same  high  ideals,  the 
same  lovable  character,  the  same  (let 
us  coin  a  word)  "blessable"  creature. 

Fortunately  neither  goodness  nor 
beauty  are  entirely  dependent  upon 
the  amount  of  money  a  woman  can 
command;  graces  of  character  are 
not  paid  as  interest  upon  a  balance 
at  the  banker's;  wit,  humor,  and  in- 
tellect are  independent  of  income,  and 
it  is  not  only  in  poems  that  the  rich 
young  man  holds  the  mistletoe  above 
the  head  of  Miss  Nothing-a-Year,  or 
that  King  Cophetua   steps  down  from 

129 


'HI 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 


his  throne  to  wed  the  beauteous 
beggar-maid. 

And  yet,  who  will  be  so  foolish  as 
to  deny  that  education  counts,  that 
a  large  estate  often  enables  a  family 
to  improve  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion, and  that  money  increases  the 
power  of  its  possessors  for  good  as 
well  as  for  evil?  He  is  a  fool  who 
marries  money-bags  only,  and  needs 
no  punishment  beyond  that  he  brings 
upon  himself.  But  the  possession  of 
property  does  a  good  and  noble  young 
girl  no  harm,  and  enables  her  to  render 
herself  doubly  attractive  to  the  eye 
that  loves  grace  of  line  and  beauty 
of   color. 

It  is,  doubtless,  a  matter  for  thank- 
ulness  that  the  young  American  Girl 
bids  fair  to  be  the  richest  of   all   the 

130 


I 


m' 


IN    SOCIETY 

daughters  of  the  nations,  and  also 
seems  destined  to  make  the  best  use 
of  the  power  and  influence  that  money 
will  give  her.  We  may  rejoice,  there- 
fore, that  she  has  this  in  addition  to 
her  other  charms ;  and  be  heartily  glad 
she  seems  likely  to  be  unspoiled  by 
the  fortunes  the  skill,  shrewdness,  and 
industry  of  American  men  are  day  by 
day  pouring  into  her  hands,  and  en- 
trusting  to    her    discretion. 


131 


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THE  AMERICAN  GIRL  AS  THE  BRIDE 


VI 
Cbc  Hmcrican  Girl  as  the  Bride 

Why  does  she  read  the   end  of  the 
novel  first  ? 

It  will  be  found  that  the  answer  to 
this  apparently  light  and  frivolous  query 
leads  one  into  many  questions  even  more 
perplexing  than  the  original.  The 
object  of  an  author  is  to  pique  curios- 
ity. He  makes  his  plot  a  puzzling 
and  baffling  tangle  so  that  it  shall 
keep  speculatio'n  ever  on  tiptoe,  imag- 
ining that  his  great  throng  of  feminine 
readers  will  be  in  suspense  until  the 
very  last  chapter,  and  will  cudgel  their 
minds  to  discover  by  piecing  bits  to- 
gether whether  the  hero  really  succeeds 
in  winning  the  hand    of   the    heroine. 

135 


'm 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

Misplaced  confidence!  Every 
mother's  daughter  of  his  readers  in- 
sists upon  knowing  this  one  grand 
essential  fact  from  the  very  beginning, 
and  if  she  can  not  ascertain  whether 
the  wedding-bells  are  to  ring  in  the 
last  pages — then  so  much  the  worse  for 
the  unhappy  and  the  unread  novelist. 
She  "doesn't  think  she'd  care  to  read 
that  book,  anyway,"  and  tosses  it  aside 
in  favor  of  the  work  of  a  more  capable 
novelist  who  places  on  the  last  page, 
convenient  to  her  prying  eyes,  an  assur- 
ance that  the  love-aflair  ends  as  all 
should   end. 

Even  serial  publication,  where  it 
is  impossible  to  read  the  last  few  pages 
first,  does  not  serve  the  author's  pur- 
pose of  keeping  his  feminine  readers  in 
suspense   until   the    end    of    the    book. 

136 


nn' 


i,mr 


r  ••  .-^  t'hinijle!* CftTi' &li^Y| IJOfT 


MISTLETOE 


AS    THE    BRIDE 

For  there  is  at  least  grave  suspicion 
that  serials  are  never  read  until  they 
appear  in  book-covers.  We  believe 
this  to  be  true,  and  we  advise  some 
enterprising  magazine-editor  to  try  the 
experiment  of  printing  the  last  chapter 
of  his  serial  in  the  first  installment, 
so  that  his  women  readers  may  slake 
their  curiosity  as  to  the  final  fate  of 
hero  and  heroine  in  the  usual  fashion. 

Perhaps  a  frontispiece  drawing  of 
the  wedding  would  be  a  good  device. 

We  believe  that  this  feminine  cus- 
tom is  right,  and  dictated  by  a  sound 
intuition.  The  proper  subject  for  all 
novels  is  the  love-story.  The  main 
interest  in  the  love-story  is  the  long 
battle  of  courtship,  and  the  courtship 
that  ends  elsewhere  than  before  the 
hymeneal  altar  is  a  battle  that  ends  in  a 

137 


'm 


THE     AMERICAN    GIRL 

retreat  of  both  armies.  It  is  a  game  of 
chess  ending  in  a  draw.  It  is  a  nine-in- 
ning game  called 
on  account  of 
darkness.  It  is  a 
bout  of  football 
without  a  goal  on 
either  side.  In 
other  words,  it  is 
foolishness;  and  a 
novel  without  the 
scene  where  she 
capitulates  and 
gladly  lays  down 
her  head  upon  his 
manly  shoulder  is 
no  more  than  an 
empty  babblement 
of  vain  words 
deserving  never  to 

138 


THE   TRAVELED    GIRI, 


151^ 


AS    THE    BRIDE 

be  issued  in  an  illustrated  edition 
de    luxe. 

So  we  refuse  to  tell  the  story  of  the 
American  Girl  without  that  one  all-im- 
portant function — The  Wedding— in 
our  last  chapter.  We  insist  that  she  not 
only  find  the  right  man,  but  that  he 
succeed  in  bringing  her  to  bay  in  some 
conservatory  or  chimney-corner,  upon 
a  secluded  balcony,  in  an  air-ship,  or 
during  a  tete-a-tete  ride.  We  are  will- 
ing to  allow  her  but  brief  grace  before 
she  shall  decide  to  entrust  her  fate  to 
him,  and  shall  admit  that  she  ''^  can  love 
him — a    little — she    thinks.'' 

Love  him  a  little?  She  has  been — 
for  who  knows  how  long? — trying  to 
think  of  anybody,  anything  but  his 
handsome  face  and  stalwart  frame.  Her 
mother   has    been    wondering,   "What 

139 


HI 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

is  the  matter  with  Gwendolen?" 
Her  father  has  been  thinking  she 
"needs  a  change" — and  he  is  right, 
though  he  has  never  dreamed  how 
great  is  the  change  the  little  woman 
unknowingly  longs  for.  Her  small 
brother  has  been  asking  scornfully, 
"What's  gone  wrong  with  you,  Gwen? 
You're  no  good  any  more!"  And 
she  has  known  that  all  these  com- 
ments and  criticisms  are  deserved.  Life 
has  lost  its  savor,  and  become  a  drama 
that  fascinated    while   it    tortured. 

Then  one  day — possibly  from  the 
playful  tongue  of  a  girl-chum — comes 
the  solution.  She  finds  that  the  old, 
old  myth  of  Dan  Cupid  is  more 
than  a  fable.  She  knows  that  some- 
where from  ambush  the  sly  little  blind- 
folded god  has  twanged  his  bow,  and 

140 


ua' 


AS    THE    BRIDE 

that  the  barbed  arrow  is  fixed  forever 
in  her  maiden  heart.  It  smarts,  but 
with  a  pain  unlike  all  other  pangs; 
and  she  would  not  have  it  withdrawn. 
For  with  the  touch  of  the  magic  arrow 
she  has  learned  a  thousand  things. 

She  had  been  wont  to  note  with 
open-eyed  wonder  or  with  lofty  scorn 
the  demeanor  of  those  wounded  by 
the  blind  archer's  shafts.  She  had 
reflected  that  such  folly  is  not  for  such 
natures  as  her  own.  She  had  looked 
upon  love  as  something  far  off,  strange, 
beautiful  perhaps,  but  distant  beyond 
computation.  And  now — the  mist  has 
cleared  from  her  eyes,  and,  behold  I 
— she   understands. 

What  was  the  merest  folly   has    be 
come    the    very    essence    of    romance. 
She     comprehends     the    song    of    the 

141 


m 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

troubadours,  the  rapture  of  the  poets, 
the  dreams  of  the  artists.  The  universe 
has  swung  about,  and  now  revolves 
around  a  new  centre,  and  that  centre 
is  the  Love  she  had  beHttled  and 
scorned. 

She  knows  she  has  received  a  new 
soul,  a  soul  that  dominates  and  con- 
trols her   being. 

Now  first  she  really  reads  the  poets. 
Now  first  she  comprehends  the  words 
of    Shakespeare's    Valentine: 

** Love's  a  mighty  Lord, 
And  hath  so  humbled  me  as  I  confess 
There  is  no  woe  to  his  correction. 
Nor,  to  his  service,  no  such  joy  on  earth. 
Now  no  discourse,  except  it  be  of  Love ; 
Now  can  I  break  my  fast,  dine,  sup  and  sleep. 
Upon  the  very  naked  name  of  Love ! " 

And  there  arises  in  her  heart  a  new 
tenderness  for  all  the  world ;  for  the  old 

142 


na' 


AS    THE    BRIDE 

that  they  have  worn  the  livery  of  love, 
for  the  young  in  pity  that  they  do  not 
know  his  service.  Truly  has  she  been 
admitted  into  the  outer  courts  of  his 
temple,  and  begins  to  have  an  inkling 
of  the  greater  mysteries  that  are  within. 
It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  she 
walks  for  a  season  like  one  in  a  dream, 
for  all  the  world  has  been  made  over 
before  her  eyes,  old  things  are  become 
new,  and  the  new  are  comprehended 
as  if  they  had  been  old.  But  it  is 
not  all  romance.  If  she  knows  the 
truth  of  the  romantic  poets,  she  can 
not  deny  the  equal  truth  of  the  old 
Scotch  lines: 

**  Love,  love,  love  is  like  a  dizziness, 
It  winna  lat  a  body  gang  aboot  his  business  !" 

And  now  and   again   this  leads   to   an 
impatience  of   the   pleasant   thraldom. 

143 


'm 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

Then  it  is  that  the  lover  learns  of  the 
tiny  claws  that  lurk  in  the  velvet  paw, 
and  fumes  with  futile  rage  against  the 
capricious  little  goddess  whom  he  can 
neither  tame  nor  conquer.  Little  does 
he  know  that  she  feels  more  keenly  than 
he  the  pain  she  inflicts,  and  that  his 
wisest  course  (were  lovers  ever  wise) 
is  to  submit  with  a  kindly  patience 
until  the  April  cloud  is  blown  away 
and  sunshine  smiles  again. 

Sooner  or  later  his  time  will  come. 
The  bird  that  escapes  again  and  again 
will  tire  of  her  fluttering,  and  will 
give  up  the  vain  attempt  to  play  at 
freedom.  Or,  to  change  the  metaphor 
(for  only  in  metaphors  can  we  talk 
of  lovers'  ways),  he  must  recall  the 
days  when  he  sought  another  prize — 
the  shy,  golden-speckled  trout.      After 

144 


m' 


AS    THE    BRIDE 

many  casts,  the  lure  proves  a  tempta- 
tion not  to  be  resisted,  and  the  timid 
fish  is  fast.  Then  is  needed  patience. 
Give  plenty  of  line,  but  be  ready  to 
reel  in  at  the  first  indication  of 
yielding. 

There  is  no  need  to  go  over  the 
method  once  more,  and  we  would 
not  dare  suggest  that  there  is  the 
slightest  parallel,  but — the  wary  lover 
may  at  least  ponder  to  advantage  the 
ways  of  the  fly-fisherman. 

The  fateful  word  spoken,  the  bat- 
tle fought  and  won,  and  the  sol- 
itaire being  adjusted  in  sign  of  con- 
quest, the  adversaries  work  their  way 
to  an  alliance,  defensive  and  offensive. 
All  at  once  the  responsive  duet  comes 
to  an  end,  and  the  chorus  breaks  in 
on  the  lovers'  dream.     Thinking  they 

145 


'm 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

are  entering  upon  a  world  made  for 
two,  they  suddenly  discover  that  al- 
liances are  the  business  not  only  of 
the  parties  most  concerned,  but  of  all 
the  world  besides.  Father,  mother, 
sister,  brother — nay,  cousins,  aunts, 
uncles,  relatives  to  a  remote  degree — 
insist  upon  a  hearing.  Love  concerns 
but  two,  but — the  engagement  is  a 
diflFerent  matter.  None  so  pocr  that 
they  do  not  find  reason  for  an  in- 
terest more  or  less  direct.  If  it  be 
not   advice,    it    is    criticism. 

To  the  fiancee  the  solitaire  assumes 
the  bigness  of  a  search-light,  not  to 
be  overlooked  by  the  most  casual 
observer.  And  in  proportion  as  her 
new-found  love  is  deep  and  absorbing 
does  she  know  the  truth  of  Words- 
worth's   dictum,    "The    world    is    too 

146 


na' 


AS    THE    BRIDE 

much  with  us,  late  and  soon  ! ' '  She 
wonders  what  used  to  occupy  the  time 
of  the  busybodies  who  now  can  devote 
so  many  hours  and  so  close  an  attention 
to  affairs  that  do  not  seriously  con- 
cern any  but  herself  and  himself.  She 
takes  counsel  of  those  who  have  dared 
the  awful  perils  of  one  engagement 
or  more,  and  learns  by  their  en- 
couragement that  the  new  nine-days' 
wonder  will  not  last  forever;  that  there 
will  be,  in  time,  other  engagements 
and  other  happenings  that  will  leave 
her  and  him  in  the  peaceful  seclusion 
both  now  so  eagerly  covet. 

When  these  quieter  days  come  she 
will  begin  first  to  taste  the  sweets  of 
her  new  state.  She  will  enter  in  ear- 
nest upon  the  first  steps  of  that  de- 
lightful study  of  mankind — man.     She 

147 


"m 


AS    THE    BRIDE 


will     discover     that 


[here    the 


reader  is  requested  to  insert  her  fav- 
orite masculine  Christian  name]  is 
not  without  his  puzzling  traits.  She 
cares  little  for  criticism,  but  replies 
in  the  words  of  another  of  Shake- 
speare's characters: 

"I  know  riot  why 
I  love  this  youth ;  and  I  have  heard  you  say. 
Love's  reason's  without  reason." 

But  though  her  faith  is  sufficient  for 
herself,  she  has  a  kindly  pity  for  the 
blindness  of  those  who  can  not  see 
the  virtues  and  excellencies  of  the 
rare  being  she  has  discovered.  Fault- 
less?— of  course  he  is  not  faultless, 
but  she — likes  a  man  to  be  like  that. 
She  may  have  been  foolish  enough 
in  her  younger  girlhood  to  have  an- 
nounced  the   general   outlines   of    her 

149 


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THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

youthful  ideal:  "Tall,  strong,  master- 
ful, brief  in  speech" — and  so  on,  and 
so  on.  And  behold,  she  is  to  marry 
one  to  whom  her  description  can  not 
be  made  in  any  manner  to  apply. 
Still — he  is  what  she  wants.  If  he 
does  not  quite  fit  the  lines  of  her 
ideal — then  so  much  the  worse  for  that 
airy  nothing.  It  was  not  half  so  nice, 
anyway. 

Well,  we  all  alter  our  ideals  as  life 
goes  on;  and  we  often  find  that  the 
reality  has  a  steadier  arm  on  which 
to  lean,  a  kindlier  eye  for  our  own 
favorite  failings,  or  a  more  comfortable 
presence  for  every  day  than  the  chilly 
perfection  we  had  conceived  before  the 
reality  came  to  teach  a  riper   wisdom. 

The  engagement  is  a  fortunate 
device    for    easing    the    transition    be- 

150 


rn' 


AS    THE   BRIDE 

tween  single  life  and  marriage.  There 
is  enough  of  comradeship,  enough  of 
common  interest  to  allow  of  a  pre- 
liminary run  in  double-harness,  and 
yet  freedom  is  not  so  suddenly  lost 
as  to  leave  a  sense  of  deprivation. 
There  are  advantages  in  the  little  trial- 
trip.  Some  have  accused  the  Ameri- 
can girl  of  regarding  the  shackles  of 
engagement  lightly.  If  she  breaks  an 
engagement  that  her  transatlantic  sister 
would  have  kept,  it  is  because  she 
looks  upon  it  as  demanding  a  whole- 
hearted fulfilment.  Finding  at  times 
that  the  engagement  has  not,  behind 
the  formal  plighting,  the  sincerity  of 
purpose  which  alone  can  give  it  sanc- 
tity, she  chooses  rather  to  undo  the 
formality  than  to  follow  it  by  a  marriage 
more  faithless  than  the  engagement.     It 

151 


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THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

is  not  that  she  undervalues  the  engage- 
ment, but  that  she  chooses  a  broken  en- 
gagement rather  than  a  loveless  marriage. 

And,  indeed,  there  is  no  purpose 
in  engagements  at  all  unless  to  be 
broken  if  they  do  not  suit  both  parties. 
The  American  Girl  in  this  very  mat- 
ter shows  her  independence  of  forms 
and  ceremonies  when  these  lack  the 
spirit  that  should  give  them  life.  She 
refuses,  though  at  the  behest  of  Mrs. 
Grundy,  to  sacrifice  a  life's  happiness 
for  the  sake  of  conventional  conformity. 

We  are  crediting  her  with  the  highest 
motives,  even  if  she  is  more  apt  to 
break  an  engagement  than  other  girls. 
The  American  girl  simply  acts  upon 
the  advice  of  Davy  Crockett.  "Be 
sure  you're  right,  then  go  ahead." 
When  sure  she  is  not  right,  she  refuses 

152 


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AS    THE    BRIDE 

to  go  ahead.  But  we  refuse  to  believe 
her  a  coquette  or  a  jilt.  There  is  a 
certain  smart  set  that  owes  its  prom- 
inence to  printer's  ink,  and  that  be- 
longs to  no  country  more  than  to 
another.  For  the  vagaries  of  these  we 
refuse  to  hold  the  American  girl  res- 
ponsible. They  disregard  certain  con- 
ventions because  of  a  love  of  license 
rather  than  freedom.  Owing  to  the 
prominence  given  them  by  a  venal  jour- 
nalism their  faults  and  shortcomings 
receive  undue  attention,  and,  since  in 
our  own  land  this  set  is  numerous  and 
increasing,  some  of  their  characteristics 
have  been  labeled  "American,"  though 
they  belong  exclusively  to  no  nation- 
ality and  to  no  period. 

The    American    girl,    with    all    her 
vivacity   and  brightness,  is   yet  serious. 

153 


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THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

She  does  not  shirk  the  duties  of  life, 
and  having  once  resolved  to  exchange 
the  independence  of  her  girlhood  for 
the  more  dignified  if  less  free  state,  she 
loyally  carries  out  her  bargain,  submits 
to  the  necessities  of  the  case,  and  with 
ready  adaptability  "puts  aside  childish 
things."  We  have  all  watched  the 
transformation,  for,  fortunately,  it  is 
the  normal  one.  Who  has  not  seen  the 
pretty  assumption  of  the  dignity  of  the 
bride,  the  abnegation  of  much  her 
maidenhood  held  dear,  the  resolute 
fitting  of  herself  for  all  her  new 
responsibilities  ? 

It  is  not  surprising  that  other  young 
girls  make  much  of  their  friend's  wed- 
ding-day, throng  about  her,  lend  her 
every  aid,  march  behind  her  up  the 
aisle,  and,  when  the  buzzing  reception 

154 


m' 


AS    THE    BRIDE 


ceremony, 


has  succeeded  the  solemn 
and  the  time  comes  for  the  gomg 
away,''  watch  with  beating  hearts  the 
departure  of  bride  and  groom  for  the 
unknown  land  whereto  they  themselves 
hope  one  day  to  follow. 

But  though  they  leave  all  others  be- 
hind, there  is  one  little  companion  who 
claims  of  right  a  place  among  the  indis- 
pensable baggage.  The  mischievous 
little  imp  Cupid,  though  invisible  to 
the  eyes  of  any  wedding-guest,  yet 
perches  behind  the  wedding-coach,  is 
transferred  from  coach  to  car,  from  car 
to  steamship,  and  though  they  wander  to 
the  ends  of  the  earth,  never  allows  them 
to  feel  the  lack  of  other  company. 

And  so,  as  the  happy  Bride,  blessed 
and   blessing,   we   bid   farewell  to 
American  Girl. 

155 


our 


Da 


THE    AMERICAN    GIRL 

EPILOGUE. 

Like  man,  woman  has  her  seven 
ages.  She,  too,  begins  as  the  infant  and 
goes  through  youth  to  maturity  and 
from  maturity  to  old  age.  But  to 
know  her  truly  we  must  look  upon  her 
just  when  all  her  beauties,  her  powers, 
her  graces  and  her  virtues  are  at  their 
early  maturity. 

Hence  we  have  tried  to  present  to 
you  some  pictures  and  some  interpre- 
tations of  the  girl  rather  than  the 
woman.  But  the  qualities  herein  de- 
clared to  be  characteristic  of  the  Amer- 
ican girl  are,  either  in  greater  or  lesser 
degree,  those  that  belong  to  the  whole 
body  of  American  womanhood. 

We  therefore  can  do  no  better  than 
to   end   as   we   began — with  a  toast   to 

156 


Da' 


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